Inventing the Future
by Mariel1
Summary: Dr. Jaming met his defeat at the hands of Max and Monica, and was abandoned by Emperor Griffon. What seems to be the lowest point of his existence turns out to be a blessing in disguise, however, as he begins his journey of renewed purpose, redemption, and (possibly) love.
1. Chapter 1: Vanquished

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ I played through the game recently, and I've had Dr. Jaming on the brain ever since. You don't see very much of him, but he ends up playing a pretty big part in saving the world, even though it all happened off-screen after his defeat. We meet his grandson in the game, so it can be assumed that he either marries or has a relationship with an unknown woman. This leaves the door wide open for fanfic ideas, wouldn't you agree? I don't own Dark Cloud 2/Dark Chronicle, the events therein, or Dr. Jaming. I do own Meredith, though._

"Chapter 1: Vanquished"

"Graah, I can't believe it...You actually beat me..." Dr. Jaming snarled down at Max and Monica, gripping the neck of his guitar tightly as the floating platform on which he stood sparked and shuddered beneath him. Almost as if to add insult to injury, the platform gave one final jerk before it tilted and unceremoniously dumped its passenger face-first onto the beach before falling itself.

"Oof!" The pain of doing a belly-flop on tightly-packed sand was instantaneous, but the landing stunned him so that he was nearly knocked unconscious, and the pain wasn't as severe as it might have been otherwise. Above him he could hear the Shigura panting as they regained control of themselves, and he realized that the mind-control helmets had shorted out and fallen off. This was it. He was going to die. They had been docile enough when he had fitted them with those things, but surely they would be angry with him now that they knew he had used them!

Dr. Jaming's mind flashed back to the things he had done. Such terrible things. Why shouldn't he just let the Shigura kill him? After all, _he_ had killed. After joining Emperor Griffon's forces, he had hardened his heart and ignored his pangs of conscience, obeying Griffon and Gaspard almost robotically in their pursuits. Most recently he had fired upon the lighthouse that housed the Moon Crystal, murdering the man who would be a Sage. Crest was the man's name, wasn't it? This was inexcusable. But Dr. Jaming had buried his guilt and repeated to himself the phrase that had almost become a mantra. _They deserve it._

He lay there on his belly, eyes closed, awaiting his end. He did not cringe as he felt the beaked muzzle of a Shigura lightly grasp him before rolling him over onto his back. The sun warmed his face, and the peaceful atmosphere brought on a sad sort of calm. _I deserve this. Let it be quick..._

Hot breath wafted over his face, and oddly enough the smell was not unpleasant. Then, to his utter astonishment, he felt something warm and moist swiping gently across his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, and he realized that one of the Shigura was cleaning the sand from his face while two others hovered over him with expressions of utmost concern. "Wha...? But why are you..."

The Shigura tending to him did not respond (not that he would have been able to understand what it was saying anyway), and continued to clean his face. It stung a little, probably because there were tiny abrasions here and there from the sand.

Dr. Jaming heard a distant growl from Gaspard. "You're all worthless! Withdraw." This last was said to one of Griffon's soldiers, who responded with a "Yes, sir!"

The Death Ark disappeared through a time gate, and Dr. Jaming knew it would not come back. Gaspard had abandoned him. He was alone and aimless all over again. The Shigura, satisfied that Dr. Jaming's face was now clean and that he seemed largely unhurt, pressed the top of its muzzle against his arm and gently urged him to sit up with a soft nudge. Dr. Jaming felt his eyes begin to sting with the threat of tears. Why didn't they just kill him? He didn't deserve their kindness!

He got to his feet with little difficulty and picked up his guitar before looking up at the three Shigura who blocked him from Max and Monica so that they could not see him. He doubted that this was intentional, but he was glad to not have to deal with them right now. He just wanted to...

What _did_ he want to do? He had nowhere to go! He was a failure. A murderer who deserved all of the misfortune that lay before him.

"Don't you know what I did to you?"

The Shigura that had been licking his face snaked its great neck down so that it was eye-to-eye with the blue-skinned human, who took an involuntary step backwards. Its eyes were soft and calm, full of forgiveness. Very deliberately, it nodded its head once.

"Then _why?_"

Now the Shigura gave a frustrated sigh through its nose, and the large puff of air nearly knocked the man off-balance. It opened its mouth and answered him, but all that came out was a deep, squawking growl.

Of course. "I see...You can understand me, but I can't understand you. Asking you about your motives is quite pointless."

The Shigura gave what looked like a wry smile, and moved off to join its fellows. The other two followed, but not before nodding to Dr. Jaming in an almost human show of politeness.

He watched them go, swallowing hard and setting his jaw. Sand crunched between his molars, and he turned his head and spat. Yuck.

Max and Monica were using some sort of device to speak to the Shigura, and Dr. Jaming felt a stab of envy. If _he_ had one of those, his questions might be answered in a flash! But he was in no position to take it as he was now, and to be honest, he hadn't the heart for that sort of thing.

_'What am I feeling?'_ he thought as he limped away. _'I hurt. Not my body, but...'_

He placed a blue hand over his heart. _'Those Shigura...After what I did to them, they were kind to me...And I can't stand it!'_

It had been so long since _anyone_ had been kind to him, even before he had joined Emperor Griffon. Humans did not have blue skin and hair. Not until he came along, at any rate. And he _was_ fully human, despite the rumors that followed him almost from birth and into adulthood. His odd, grotesque appearance was an anomaly for which no doctor had an explanation, and he was otherwise very healthy.

And having such large, uneven teeth surely didn't help. Not only did they look ridiculous, but they prevented him from closing his mouth properly, earning him such nicknames as 'mouth-breather' and 'bucky beaver'. He grew up very isolated and lonely. And _angry_.

What he lacked in looks, he more than made up for with his brilliant mind, and he found his niche with inventing. He had a theory, one that he knew would turn the world of technology right on its ear. He called it _'Aeroharmonics'_; technology that would allow him to make objects float on the air using sound. He would give the world a new mode of travel, one that would eliminate the need for air-polluting fossil fuels. And he would get something in return. The world would look past his appearance and see his true worth. He would show them!

And then his research had hit a dead end. It wasn't until Gaspard came to him and told him that there was a way for him to achieve his dream while getting revenge on those who had hurt him that Dr. Jaming began to hope again. He was able to create the first Aeroharmonics prototype, a floating platform which now lay in a ruin on the beach.

It wasn't until he was in it up to his neck that he realized he had made a huge mistake. He was not by nature a violent man, and while it was one thing to fantasize about revenge, it was quite another thing to actually do it. There was no choice in the matter. It was either follow orders or die. And so, Dr. Jaming had buried his heart deep within himself and done as he was told. It was easier to put on a facade and act like a mad scientist than it was to face the truth about the man he had become.

Now, cut loose from Griffon's employ but very much alive, Dr. Jaming had no choice but to face the truth. He had done terrible, terrible things. And now he was being forced to live with it. The hard shell that had formed around his feelings of guilt and remorse had been melted away by the kindness of a Sea Dragon, and his once-gentle heart began to bleed.

Finally, well away from Shigura Village and the two young humans who had brought about his defeat, Dr. Jaming sat with his back against the trunk of a palm tree and wept.

_Stay tuned for more!_


	2. Chapter 2: Picking Up the Pieces

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 2: Picking Up The Pieces"

Dr. Jaming crouched among a large clump of ferns, hidden from view as he watched the Shigura disappear back into the sea. One Shigura calf, the one Dr. Jaming himself had used as a guinea pig to test his 'Marionette' prototype out on, seemed to be saying goodbye to one of the three figures on the beach.

Jaming adjusted his monocle to get a better look, and a chill swept over him as he saw that the figure had long, rabbit-like ears. For one awful moment he thought that Emperor Griffon himself had come to deal with Jaming personally, but another look set his mind at ease once more. This one seemed younger, and he wasn't wearing the same kind of clothing.

The man looked away, scowling, and tried to block out the sad good-bye that was happening mere yards away from him. He didn't want to see it, hear it, or know about it. How many similar goodbyes had happened between those who tried to oppose Griffon's army and the family members they left behind? Had Jaming himself ever made it so that some of those goodbyes were permanent? This was a thought that he would not...no, _could_ not entertain at the moment.

_'Go...just go!'_

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Jaming had the beach all to himself. He waited for a few minutes to make sure they wouldn't come back, then got to his feet and parted the ferns to step cautiously out into the open. It had to be out there somewhere...ah!

Dr. Jaming broke into a light jog as he spotted his once-functional floating platform lying half-buried in the sand. "Oh no..."

The platform was indeed a total loss. It had struck the beach like a frisbee, and now half of it jutted up at a sharp angle like the arm of a drowning victim reaching for the surface. A seagull perched proudly on the lip of the platform as if claiming it, and Dr. Jaming swatted at the air in front of it to frighten it away. "Shoo! Go on, get out of here!"

The seagull flared out its wings and bit his finger. This just wasn't his day! He gave the bird an actual swat then, not hurting it, but letting it know that he meant business. The gull gave an angry cry and flew off.

As much as the loss of his platform grieved him, Jaming was more interested in what was inside of it. He ran his fingers over it until he came to a metal panel that was a slightly different color than the rest of the platform's 'floor'. He slid it open with some difficulty as sand ground along the simple mechanism that allowed it to open and close, and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the contents of the little compartment were unspoiled.

Working quickly, Dr. Jaming withdrew a leather portfolio containing some of his notes on 'Aeroharmonics Flying Technology', a sketchbook, a box filled with pens and pencils, and his wallet. This last item was the most important one at the moment, because what little money he possessed was inside it, and he would need it to make a fresh start. His whole life was inside that platform.

And it was at that moment that the platform began to give off arcs of electricity, and Dr. Jaming jerked back as if thrown, clutching his numb, tingling hand. Swiftly gathering up his belongings, he abandoned the platform and went to sit in the shade. While he was unsure how to proceed just yet, he knew that he had nothing but inventing to fall back on, and he was determined to complete his research. There was nothing to be gained from wallowing in guilt and self-pity, nor would it help to dwell on his hunger.

When _was _his last meal? What with all the time-jumping he had done lately, it was nearly impossible to keep track. He simply ate when he was hungry (or when he remembered), slept when exhaustion claimed him, and attended to his other needs as they arose. He supposed his last meal was at least twelve hours ago.

In order to take his mind off his hunger, he opened his sketchbook and took up one of his pencils. Working from memory alone, he began to sketch out the plan for a new platform. He did not actually _need_ one of those, but if he was able to make an exact duplicate he would know that the prototype had not simply been a fluke. If he succeeded in this, he could go on from there.

As Dr. Jaming sketched he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and the crease between his eyebrows deepened in a frown. He wasn't too keen on the idea of having company right then, and he watched the interloper draw ever closer out of the corner of his eye. Whoever it was seemed to be carrying a fishing rod.

It was a woman, and if Dr. Jaming were to hazard a guess he would say that she was in her late twenties or early thirties, putting her in his age group. That was two strikes against her right there; women, especially women his age, made him very nervous and uncomfortable. His frown deepened into a scowl as he remembered the cruelty of the girls he dealt with in his adolescence.

_'Eew, look at those teeth! Creepo, get away!' _

_ 'Why are you talking to me?' _

_ 'Did you eat too many blueberry muffins, or are you growing mold?'_

_ 'Did your mom have a fling with a swamp monster to get you?'_

He shook off the memories and grimaced as if tasting something sour. He resolved to ignore her, thinking that she might simply pass by without seeing him, or that she might at least keep to herself.

The woman set down her fishing rod and what looked to be a lunch pail, and Dr. Jaming sat up straight when she approached the half-buried platform. He remembered the electric shock it had given him, and a mental image of the woman getting a similar shock spurred him into action before he could stop himself.

"Leave it!" he snapped, gruffly.

He hadn't meant to speak so harshly.

The woman nearly leapt out of her sandals, and she turned so sharply to face him that her auburn braid swung around in a wide arc and smacked her in the nose. Flipping her braid back over her shoulder, the woman planted her fists on her hips and glared back at him, clearly covering up her fear with a show of indignation. "What am I, a dog?"

Now that she faced him fully, Dr. Jaming observed that, far from being a dog, she was actually rather pretty. He tamped down on that thought immediately and cleared his throat. "I shall explain. The device suffered irreparable damage, and I received a rather nasty zap when I recovered my personal effects from within. I advise you not to touch it."

She raised an eyebrow and looked over at it, and it sparked menacingly as if to confirm his story. "Duly noted."

Dr. Jaming watched her as she picked up her fishing rod and turned her back, casting her lure out as far as it would go. Her tone of voice and her stiff posture were both unmistakably chilly, and it didn't take a genius to understand why. He had been unfriendly first, after all!

He tried to get back to work, but he was in an ill humor and he resented her presence. It was impossible to concentrate after such an exchange, and the fact that he was painfully hungry and her lunch was sitting a mere ten yards away was maddening. His stomach growled with embarrassing loudness every few minutes, and he hoped the noise of the ocean waves would cover up the sound.

No, it was no good. He simply could not work like this. He closed his sketchbook with a snap, then leaned back against the tree he had been sitting under, extending his legs before him and folding his arms as he gazed at the far horizon. Jaming's annoyance gradually receded like the tide, and without his work to distract him he could feel his guilt and depression closing in once more.

Time must have passed, because when Dr. Jaming realized that the woman had spoken to him again the sun had moved. "I beg your pardon?"

She now stood a few feet away, looking down at him with a mixture of caution and concern. "I asked if you were okay."

Dr. Jaming hastily picked up his sketch pad, brushing sand from the cover. "Of course. Why would I not be?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sat down cross-legged next to him. "Got _me_. You just look like you've had better days, is all."

"Well, I'm fine." He said tersely, grimacing as his stomach growled piteously. _'Make me into a liar...'_

"If you say so," she rested her lunch pail on her lap and opened it.

_'Now you're torturing me,' _he thought. What happened next, however, caught him by surprise.

"Listen, I've got this_ enormous _cheese sandwich here, and I'm not hungry enough to finish it. You want half?"

He slowly turned his head and stared at her as if she had gone insane. This sort of thing did not happen to him unless it was a trick! But there she was, holding out a half-sandwich for him to take, as if she had known him for years! He might have suspected her of having sabotaged his half of the sandwich, if not for the fact that they had only just met, and she'd had no opportunity to do so. And, really, no reason.

"It's between you and the seagulls, buddy. Make up your mind."

He might have bristled at being called 'buddy', but at the moment he was too hungry to care, and that sandwich smelled _delicious._ His resolve crumbled and he finally accepted the half-sandwich, taking care not to touch her hand as he did so. "...Thank you."

He set his large teeth into the sandwich, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head before drifting shut. The tang of sharp cheddar and the crunch of lettuce was heavenly!

"I don't like to eat with strangers," she continued after swallowing her own mouthful, "You got a name?"

He swallowed with some difficulty, having taken too big a bite, and he was too focused on his meal to be offended by her direct brand of questioning. "Doesn't everyone?"

"Never met anyone who _didn't _have a name. Well, all right, keep it a secret if you want to. I'm Meredith."

He didn't answer her for a long time, more concerned with filling his empty belly than minding his manners, otherwise he would have been extremely polite and responded by introducing himself in return. She didn't seem to mind, though, and the two of them ate in companionable silence.

At least, they did until he noticed that she hadn't taken her eyes off his face. His heart sank. _'I know I'm a freak. I can't help it. Why must everyone stare at me so?'_ Aloud, he said, "Yes, I know. I'm funny-looking."

She blinked, cocking her head to one side like a confused puppy, then chuckled. "Actually, I'm just fascinated by your monocle. I've only ever seen those in pictures."

Oh.

Giving a slightly abashed half-smile, Dr. Jaming reached up and removed the monocle, holding it out for her to take and examine if she wished. And, belatedly, he introduced himself. "Jaming. My name is Jaming."

_Note: No romance yet, and probably not for a while. Friendship first. I hope I kept him in character! We saw so little of him that it's hard to be sure. I will try to update this at least once a week, or more frequently if the inspiration arises. I'm just making this up as I go along, without any real storyline, so this can really go anywhere._


	3. Chapter 3: New In Town

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 3: New In Town"

Veniccio was quite a nice place to live, and settling in wasn't as difficult as Dr. Jaming had anticipated. In addition to the new buildings that had appeared seemingly overnight, there were several abandoned tree houses further inland, and he simply selected the one that was furthest away from the little seaside town. Indeed, no one even knew he had moved in until he started work on a garage almost directly below his new home.

Construction would be a long process, but he didn't mind. As long as he was busy he felt productive, and 'productive' meant 'not useless'.

The townsfolk knew nothing of his nefarious past, and while they certainly seemed to notice his physical deformities, he was not made to feel unwelcome. Or, rather, they did not do it _deliberately_. He was, of course, a curiosity, and he was quite sensitive to the whispered speculations he inevitably overheard. His responses to their friendly overtures were rather stilted and defensive, much like his first meeting with Meredith.

Strangely enough, after their first rocky interaction, Meredith was the only person there who _didn't_ put him on the defensive, and he often found himself seeking out her company. She tended to call him on it when he was being especially crabby, but she didn't treat him any differently than she treated the other people there, and he_ liked _that. Ridicule got under his skin, but pity was even worse, and he supposed the main reason he had come to like her was the fact that she _didn't_ treat him like he needed to be pitied. He had long since had his fill of that kind of thing.

Dr. Jaming also noticed that she was a bit of a loner herself, and he simply could not fathom why she would occasionally seek out _his _company. As curious as he was, he couldn't bring himself to ask her.

Before he knew it, he had been living there for a month and a half. The townsfolk accepted him willingly enough, and while he had very little money with which to buy things, he was able to barter for food and materials by fixing things. All in all, he was surprised by how well everything seemed to be working out.

His research, on the other hand, was going nowhere.

One day, when he was feeling particularly discouraged, Meredith seemed to notice this and decided that it was high time he learned how to fish.

"I don't really see the point," he complained as he reluctantly tied a lure onto her spare fishing rod. "We live right on the ocean. I could easily buy it from someone else."

Meredith replied in a 'no nonsense' tone of voice, "The point is, you can't always rely on that. They might have had a bad day's fishing, and they might need all of what they catch for themselves. Or, you might not have the Gilda, and they might not need you to repair anything. Meaning no fish, whether they have it or not. Unless they're feeling generous, which is no guarantee."

"You quite like hearing the sound of your own voice, don't you?" he needled her, but he wore an amused smirk.

"Smartass. Now, let me see what you've got there," she took the line to inspect the knot he had tied, and nodded her approval.

"Oh, now _that's_ language befitting a lady..." he rolled his eyes and took the fishing line back from her.

"I'm no lady; I'm just a woman. Now, pay attention, and I'll show you how to cast."

It didn't take Jaming long to get the hang of it, and ten minutes later the two of them had their lines in the water.

"So...how is your research going?" she inquired, already seeming to know the answer, but leaving the door open in case he wanted to discuss it.

Jaming heaved a sigh that seemed to come right up from his toes, and shook his head. "It isn't. I've been working non-stop since daybreak. I'm not really surprised, though...I haven't had a _real_ breakthrough in quite some time..."

"Mm...Sorry to hear that."

"I should really be _working_. I'm not getting anything done, standing here with a pole in my hand..." Too late, he realized how perverted that sounded, and his hollow cheeks darkened from powder-blue to lavender. He hoped she wouldn't notice!

Meredith turned her head away, seeming to look at something in the distance, but he thought he saw her shoulders give a jiggle as if she were suppressing a laugh.

_'Great...she _did_ pick up on that...'_

"You know what I like best about fishing?" she asked, as if he hadn't just made that little gaffe.

"I do not."

"You can do two things at once," She recovered her empty lure and cast it out once again. "You can catch your dinner, sure. But your mind can go just about anywhere. I've solved a lot of my own problems this way. Sometimes all you need to do is take a step back, and some detail you've missed just leaps out at you."

"Hm..." he grunted noncommitally, then gasped as the fishing rod was nearly tugged out of his hands. "I think I've got one!"

"I'll say!" she grinned, "Reel it in before it gets away!"

Eventually, Dr. Jaming brought in a Kaji that was so large he could barely lift it clear of the beach once he got it out of the water. "I don't suppose you know how to clean these things?"

"I do," she replied, helping him lug it further up the beach. "Talk about beginner's luck! This one'll keep you fed for a week."

"You'll take some home, won't you?" he offered, feeling quite pleased with himself. "After all, you taught me."

Neither of them took notice of the nearby cave, which would prove to be unfortunate. A red pair of eyes appeared deep within, watching the two friends cleaning the giant Kaji and listening to their chatter.

"So, I've been meaning to ask you..." Meredith left the question hanging as she did most of the work while Jaming mostly just watched and made the occasional 'yuck' face.

"Yes?"

"Why _do_ you wear a monocle? I don't mean to pry, but I've seen you without it, and your vision seems to be fine."

Jaming was used to her blunt, matter-of-fact way of speaking by now, and it didn't bother him like it had before. "Well...it serves the same purpose as a telescope while allowing me the use of both hands."

"What, were you a spy?" she teased.

He stood over her as she worked, smiling wickedly and twirling an imaginary mustache. "Well, I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

Meredith chuckled, but Jaming immediately grew somber as if he just realized that he had said something wrong. She noticed this, but before she could ask, he gave her the real answer.

"No. I was...and I suppose I still am...an inventor. I mostly wear my monocle out of habit now."

"What are _you_ doing here?" demanded a voice from the cave behind them, and Meredith was so startled that she nearly cut herself and ended up dropping her knife.

"Pau?" she blinked as she recognized the young Moon Person who had just emerged from the cave and was stalking over to them like he meant to attack. She had only met him a few times, but this behavior seemed rather out of character for him. "What's wrong with you?"

Jaming froze and stared at Pau without recognition. What could this little fellow possibly have against him? He had seen the little creature from his hiding place in the ferns, but it wasn't as if they had ever _met _before, and Jaming had lived there for close to two months without even encountering him.

"He's dangerous! Max and Monica told me all about him! _He's _the one who put that thing on Shingala, and attacked Shigura Village!" Pau jabbed Dr. Jaming in the chest with his index finger, and ground out, "You've got a lot of nerve showing your ugly face here!"

Dr. Jaming's blue face grew quite pale, and he took a slow step backwards. His secret wasn't a secret anymore.


	4. Chapter 4: The Game Is Up

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 4: The Game Is Up"

Dr. Jaming's mind danced from thought to thought as his heart raced within his chest. _'He knows. He'll tell everyone else. I'll have to leave. She'll hate me now...I'll lose my only real friend..."_

"Don't you have anything to say?" demanded Pau.

Meredith finally recovered from the shock of Pau's outburst, and she turned to Jaming for confirmation. "Is it true?"

Jaming felt sick to his stomach. This wouldn't be the first time he had been forced to leave a town, but this would be the first time he actually _deserved_ it. His adam's apple bobbed once as he swallowed hard, and he kept his face carefully blank. "It is."

Meredith looked from Jaming to Pau, and then back again. Her expression was unreadable, but her silence felt ominous. And Dr. Jaming couldn't take it. He turned without a word and sprinted for the solitude of his garage. He had packing to do, and he couldn't face her.

"Jaming!" Meredith called after him, but he just kept running. This had been shaping up to be such a good day!

* * *

><p>Hours later, when the blanket of night had settled over Veniccio, there was a knock at the door of Dr. Jaming's garage. He looked up from what he was doing. Most of his tools were put away by now, and he was going down a checklist to see what he could stand to leave behind. He considered ignoring the knock...well, <em>knocks;<em> whoever was out there hadn't left, and was knocking again.

Jaming finally set down his clipboard and shuffled to the door to answer it, deciding that he might as well take what was coming to him. He felt an almost physical stab of emotional pain when he saw Meredith standing there with a cooler in her arms, and no trace of anger or hatred on her face. "Meredith...What are you doing here?"

She raised an eyebrow and quipped, "Hello to you, too. You forgot something."

"Huh?" He looked at the cooler once more, and then it clicked. _The fish._ And, that quickly, he was dangerously close to tears. "You should not be here."

"Maybe not," she conceded, lowering her eyes. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully now. "I'd like to talk to you, but I don't think we should discuss it out here. And this cooler is pretty heavy. May I come in?"

He scraped his lower lip with his teeth, blinked a few times, then stepped aside to let her pass. "Very well. But I know what you're going to say."

"That you're a horrible person, and that you don't belong here. Right?"

Jaming flinched, visibly wounded, but he nodded once.

"No, that's _not_ what I was going to say. What I was _going _to say was, I've heard Pau's side of the story, and now I would like to hear yours."

His eyes widened and he shook his head, uncomprehending. "But..._why?_"

Meredith set down the cooler and folded her arms, looking him dead in the face. "Because there are two sides to every story, and it would be nice to know that the guy I've been killing time with isn't the monster Pau says he is."

_Monster._

_ Freak._

_ Creature._

"Pau's word, not mine. Just tell me how it happened...Please."

Dr. Jaming sat down heavily on his work bench and took a moment or two to gather his thoughts. "When I tell you this...you _will_ think I'm a monster. And you would be right."

Meredith sat down on the cooler across from him and simply waited for him to continue.

And, unable to look her in the eye, he did just that. It took him more than an hour to tell her about the mind-control devices, his battle with Max and Monica, and his involvement with Emperor Griffon. He worked back from the ending to the beginning, and finished with his explanation of how his progress with Aeroharmonics had ground to a halt, and how he had lost all sense of self-worth when he thought that he had failed.

"And that was when Gaspard found me. He told me that my services were needed, and that one day the world would know my 'true worth'."

Meredith had leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist as she listened with growing interest and understanding, but she wasn't delusional. He had committed crimes that left her feeling ill. However, his remorse seemed genuine, and she found herself being moved to sympathy. What kind of life had this man had before Gaspard had found him? She shook her head. "And you believed him."

"I believed him..." He was not wearing his monocle now, and he felt naked without it. Dark sunglasses would have been even better concealment, because he was having a harder and harder time fighting off the urge to break down. "I won't pretend that I didn't know what I was doing...but by then, I was in no position to say no. I'm _still_ surprised Griffon didn't have me destroyed when I lost to those two. I've done...so many terrible things."

Meredith saw his eyes fill with tears, and she knew then that the word 'monster' did not apply to him. 'Misguided' and 'mistreated' fit much better, and though he had done monstrous things, she could see that he dearly regretted it.

"I put that Shigura child in danger, and I did the same to his brethren. I fired upon the Lighthouse to destroy the Moon Crystal...and not only did I fail to destroy it, I...I killed an innocent and righteous man. I did those things. And I'm sorry." Jaming's breath hitched in his throat, and he buried his face in his hands. "I'm so _sorry_..."

Meredith got up off the cooler and sat down on the bench beside him. She hesitated a moment, then rested a gentle hand on his shuddering back as he sobbed quietly. "I know you are..."

Jaming fought to bring his breathing under control and mumbled, "I have to leave. I can't stay here."

"Where will you go?"

"I d-don't know...Who cares?" he said miserably.

"Well,_ I _do." Meredith replied, her tone indicating that this should have been obvious. "I don't know about you, but I believe in second chances."

He finally brought himself under control for the most part, and fished around in his pockets for a handkerchief, still sniffling and avoiding her eyes. "You are only one person. Pau feels differently. And so will the others when the story gets out."

"I've already talked to Pau, and he promised to keep quiet about it for now. Do you know why most of us came to Veniccio in the first place, Jaming?"

He shook his head without looking at her, painfully embarrassed now that he was calmer.

"_To start over._"

Finally he turned to face her, wary and heart-breakingly hopeful. "Some can..."

"_You_ can. You want to leave that old life behind you, right?"

Dr. Jaming drew a shuddering breath, but his crying had passed. "Yes."

She nodded, smiling softly. "Then you've got some work ahead of you, don't you?"

He scoffed quietly, but he felt the corners of his mouth twitching into an uncertain half-smile of his own. Whether she was correct or not, he actually felt a little better. "Do you really think I can start over? After all that?"

"Well...that's up to you. But you won't be on your own. I'm still your friend, you know."

He shook his head, wonderingly. "I don't deserve it..."

This was getting a bit too mushy for Meredith's liking, and she lightly nudged his arm with her elbow. "Maybe not, but you're stuck with me anyway. Too bad, so sad!"

Dr. Jaming gave a watery laugh and got to his feet, giving his face one last wipe with his handkerchief. "We had better get that fish into the freezer before it spoils. And you're taking some home with you whether you like it or not."

"Yes, sir."


	5. Chapter 5: Deadly Grotto

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ I'll admit, I'm not entirely confident that this story is worth continuing, but I'm having fun writing it all the same. This story is proving to be addictive! I just hope Meredith isn't turning into a Mary Sue. :/ Dr. Jaming having a relationship with someone _is _canon, because he eventually has a grandson, but we never really learn anything about his wife/girlfriend, so I'm having to make her up based on what I think might go well with his personality. Or, at least, what little of it we see in the game! I guess some people will still think she's a bit 'Sue-ish', but I think all OC's run the risk of having that happen. But I picture Jaming going well with someone who doesn't care too much about outer appearances, who 'tells it like it is', and who is just a little bit quirky._

_I've got several ideas, but if anyone would like to see a scenario play out, feel free to suggest it in a review or a PM. I can't promise that I will definitely write it, because sometimes the muse just isn't there no matter how much I want it to be, but I'll consider it and I'll give you a shout-out at the beginning of such a chapter. Just try to keep it clean, please. Some things are better left behind closed doors. ;) _

_Hope you guys enjoy it~_

"Chapter 5: Deadly Grotto"

About a month later, Jaming was moderately relieved that Pau seemed to be true to his word. No one other than Pau, Meredith, and Jaming himself seemed to know about what had happened. Jaming had not seen Meredith since yesterday afternoon when she left town to go look for crafting supplies, but he didn't give this a second thought. She was prone to going off on her own from time to time, so short absences were not unusual.

The late afternoon air was sticky and humid, and Jaming was in his garage with the door and windows wide open and a large box fan set on high power near the door to keep the air circulating. His research was once again put on hold, and for a good reason. He found it difficult to concentrate when he was this hot, and he was well aware that contracting heat stroke would make concentration nigh impossible.

He had purchased a broken air conditioner from a young boy called Donny several weeks ago, fully intending to scrap it for parts. The price that kid had quoted at first had been ridiculously high, especially for a broken piece of machinery, but Jaming was able to acquire it for a mere ten Gilda by agreeing to fix Donny's broken TV.

As Jaming sat in the relative coolness of his garage, feeling disgustingly sweaty and making repairs on the A.C. unit he had previously planned to dismantle, he reflected that it was a lucky thing for him that Donny's love of cartoons was almost as strong as his love of money.

Hearing footsteps approaching, Jaming wiped an armful of sweat from his forehead and turned to see who it was. He partly hoped it was Meredith, because he wanted to ask her if she knew any good recipes for Kaji. His cooking skills were modest, and while the food he prepared was edible, it was still nothing to write home about.

On the other hand, he was wearing a T-shirt instead of his usual vest, button-down shirt, and yellow tailcoat. He was (in his own opinion, anyway) under-dressed for company, and the armpits of his shirt were stained with perspiration. She might not give this a second thought, but _he_ certainly did!

But it was not Meredith.

"Pau. You are the last person I expected to see," Jaming commented, returning to his work. "Good afternoon."

The young Moon Person stood hesitating in the doorway, his rabbit-like nose wrinkling as if sampling a disgusting smell. "Eugh...human B.O. is nasty."

"Your nose must be more sensitive than mine. I smell nothing," replied Jaming, not particularly caring. All _he_ could smell was sawdust and motor oil. If Pau was just going to be rude, he had nothing to say to him.

"Lucky you," Pau snorted, entering the garage and coming over to inspect Jaming's work.

"Please, come in," Jaming said, pointedly.

"What is that?" Pau reached out to poke at the metallic jumble that lay on Jaming's work table. "Something new to use on the Shigura?"

Jaming closed his eyes for a moment. So, this was how it was going to be, was it? There was a time, not so long ago, that Jaming would have angrily responded to the obvious dig, but he knew that Pau's feelings were valid. The little fellow did not trust him, and why should he? "It's an air conditioner. Or it _will _be, once I've repaired and reassembled it. Do you have something you want to say to me?"

Pau folded his arms and stared down the strange-looking human without a trace of fear. "Plenty. I promised Meredith I wouldn't blab, but I won't forgive you for what you did to Shingala. He's just a _baby!_ You had no right to go near him. Meredith might believe you've changed, but _I_ don't. And I'll be watching you."

Pau's words cut deep, and Jaming stopped tightening a screw and sat very still for as long as it would take a person to count to ten. Then he took a deep breath and looked down at Pau. "You do not need to list my crimes to me. I _know_ what I've done. I have to live with it every day. And you are not required to like me. Your opinions are justified, and you have a right to them. But I can tell you from personal experience that clinging to anger and hatred will do nothing but lead you down a dark path."

Shifting his attention back to his project, he turned his screwdriver idly in his hands. "I am trying to make amends. Whether or not I'm successful remains to be seen..."

"Hmph..." Pau looked away, having no response for that. Then, as if remembering something important, he asked in a different tone of voice, "Speaking of Meredith, you haven't seen her today, have you?"

"No," Jaming began to scrape the rust off of the A.C.'s fan blades. "I haven't seen her since yesterday, but she comes and goes as she pleases. I'm sure she'll turn up soon."

"Well, when I talked to her yesterday, she said she'd be back from Ocean's Roar Cave by nightfall, but I haven't seen her today. I went by her house to-"

Jaming fumbled his screwdriver and dropped it. "'Ocean's Roar Cave'?" He looked very serious now, and his face grew rather pale. He remembered having a few very narrow escapes himself when he had ventured into the caves to intercept Shingala. He knew Meredith had gone through there before, because she told him that there was a lot of good stuff to be found for jewelry making, but he had asked her to avoid that place in the future. He wasn't surprised that she didn't listen, but he could have done without this elevation in his blood pressure. "When did you say you saw her last? Yesterday? What time?"

"I...around lunchtime," Pau blinked, rather taken aback by this sudden shift in Jaming's demeanor. "What's wrong?"

Jaming clicked his tongue impatiently and covered the dismantled air conditioner with a tarp. It was possible that she had come back when she said she would, and that she was simply busy with something else today, but he had a horrible feeling that this wasn't the case. Meredith hadn't told him _where _she was going, only that she _was_ going, and it dawned on him that she had kept this detail from him on purpose.

_'Because I would have tried to stop her, and she _knew _it.'_

Jaming snatched up his pack from the work bench and began hastily stuffing a few items into it while Pau watched him with an expression of bewildered shock.

"What's wrong?" Pau asked again, his tone more demanding this time. "I heard she goes in there all the time."

"And I suppose she always comes out when she says she's going to?"

"Well...yeah, I guess so. I mean, I don't know her that well..." Pau rubbed the back of his neck, his ears drooping. Jaming's worry was contagious, and Pau was startled to see that it was genuine. Maybe Meredith was right about Jaming's change of heart...and maybe she _was_ in danger.

"Blast it..." hissed Jaming, side-stepping Pau and stalking out into the bright seaside afternoon without even bothering to turn off the fan or shut the door and windows. If his suspicions were correct, she'd been in that cave overnight. _'Let me be wrong about this. Let her be all right. Don't let her be...'_

He unwillingly pictured her lying dead in the inch or two of water that permanently covered the cave floor, and he shook his head vigorously to banish the image. _'Not her...Please, not her! Idiot woman...Why didn't she listen to me?'_

"Hey, wait up!" Pau called, closing the distance between them with some difficulty, for Jaming would not slow his pace at all. Panting, he maintained a steady jog beside Dr. Jaming, and he was astonished by the expression of barely-suppressed terror on the man's face.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jaming demanded.

"What does it look like? I'm going with you."

* * *

><p>The caves weren't nearly as bad as they had been before Max and Monica had cleared them out, but little by little the monsters were making their way back into the darkness and the damp they preferred. Other than being less crowded than it had been the first time Jaming had been in there, the caves were just as he remembered them. A few inches of water still covered the floor in a giant puddle, meaning that there were no tracks to follow. He was afraid to call out for her, because that would only draw the monsters to him and Pau.<p>

What troubled Jaming the most was the sheer number of sea bats in the place. They were hard to spot, and he knew that their bite was notorious for being poisonous. In fact, sea bats were the only monsters they had encountered after wandering the caves for nearly three hours.

_Three hours_. The thought made Jaming nauseous, and the hollow feeling in his heart was becoming unbearable. He was torn between wanting to find her and being afraid of _how_ he would find her. Every time his thoughts turned morbid, he forced them away and rejected them as being useless. He would simply deal with the here and now, because the thought of her being dead was simply unacceptable.

Pau reached up and touched Jaming's arm to get his attention, and when he had it he pointed to his own nose and whispered, "Do you smell that?"

"What?"

"It's...I don't know. Sort of a medicinal smell."

Dr. Jaming drew in several deep breaths through his nose, then his eyes widened. "Smells like...an antidote drink. But it's very faint."

Pau was able to ascertain the direction from which the smell was coming, and as they rounded a corner they nearly stepped on some shards of broken glass. Looking up at Jaming, Pau held the neck of a broken bottle up in his paw. "It's an antidote drink, all right. It looks like someone dropped it..."

Jaming brushed past him, unsure if it was the distant ocean he was hearing, or the hammering thud of his heart pounding in his ears. Was the bottle Meredith's? Had it simply fallen out of her pack? Or had she been trying to use it when it slipped from her fingers and shattered against a rock?

And as his mind was going over these scenarios, he tripped over something that was suspiciously soft and fell with a splash on the cave floor. "Oof!"

He scrambled to turn and look at what he had tripped over, and his eyes widened in horror.

It was Meredith.

At first, Jaming thought she was dead. She lay on her side, very still, almost serene in her stillness. Her forearms were covered in tiny bruises, and at the center of each bruise was a set of puncture marks. Sea bats must have bitten her arms as she held them up to defend herself, and it was possible that the attack continued while she fumbled with the antidote drink.

Pau gaped, reaching out as if to touch her, then lowering his hand again. "She's..."

But Jaming was at her side before Pau could finish, holding her face between his hands and whisper-shouting at her to wake up. "Meredith...Open your eyes, damn you! Come on, don't do this to me. W...wake up. Wake up, Meredith...Don't sleep now..._Wake up._"

What happened next should have disgusted him, but instead it nearly made him laugh with relief. She had been breathing so shallowly that he wasn't sure if she was breathing at all, and as he gently shook her to bring her around she furrowed her brow and gagged. He quickly turned her back onto her side so that she wouldn't choke, but she simply dry-heaved a few times and remained unconscious.

"Pau, my pack..." Jaming gently lifted her upper half and rested it across his knees, "I brought an antidote drink. Quickly."

"How will you get her to drink it?" Pau was already rifling through Jaming's pack, which was still on his back.

"If she won't, we'll try again outside," he held out a hand for the glass bottle, cradling her head and shoulders in his other arm. He nodded his thanks and approval when Pau handed over the bottle, already uncorked and ready for use. He tilted her head up as best he could, and pressed the lip of the bottle against her slack mouth, tipping a few drops of the strong-tasting liquid onto her tongue. "Come on...wake up and drink..."

Jaming gave her a few more drops, and when they trickled down the back of her throat she coughed. And, finally, she began to move.

"Mmmno...G'way..."

"You need to drink this, Meredith, it'll help you. Come on..."

"J...Jaming?"

"Come on, take your medicine...You'll be all right now."

Obediently, Meredith opened her mouth and swallowed the antidote drink as she struggled to open her eyes.

_Blue._ She had blue eyes. Why hadn't he noticed it before?

"Hurry it up, you two...I hear wings..."

Jaming dropped the empty bottle and lifted Meredith in his arms with some difficulty. He was not the strongest human around, and if he put it to the test he would probably lose to Meredith in a physical fight. But not as she was now. _'She's so cold...'_

"Let's go, Pau. _Quietly._"

Meredith still wasn't quite 'there', and as she was lifted she felt a wave of vertigo that caused her eyes to flare open wide. "J-Jaming..."

"Shh, I'm here. I've got you. We're going to get you home. Shut your eyes and go back to sleep."

Pau led the way, and now it was he who had to slow his pace so that Jaming could keep up. As he kept a watchful eye out for trouble, he tried to process what he had just witnessed. He had begun the morning _hating_ this man, not trusting him as far as he could spit, which wasn't very far. But to see him actually showing concern, even tenderness, was quite a surprise. And there was something else. Pau hadn't known her for very much longer than Jaming had, and while the Moon Person had feared for her safety, Jaming had almost looked devastated when she at first appeared to be dead. Could Jaming actually be _in love _with her?

Pau shuddered a little. _'This is getting too weird. They've known each other for...what...three months? I'm just reading too much into this, but...either way...I think I might have misjudged him.'_


	6. Chapter 6: Excuse me?

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ The 'backing track' for this chapter is "Rains Will Fall" by Kevin MacLeod. You can find it on YouTube, if you're interested. He's put out a lot of royalty-free music, and this piece sounds a lot like some of the songs in the game._

"Chapter 6: Excuse me?"

_'First we have rabbits...Now we have ducks.'_

They had brought Meredith to Jaming's garage for practical reasons. The metal houses on the pier were a bit too small, and both Dr. Jaming and Meredith lived in tree houses on the outskirts of the town. The garage was rather spacious, was situated on the ground, and it had a bed in a corner for when Jaming worked late and didn't feel like climbing his tree house ladder.

Jaming stood well out of the way as Dr. Dell shined a penlight into Meredith's eyes. He reflexively moved out of reach when Julia tried to reassure him with a hand on his shoulder, but she didn't seem to take offense at this.

"Her pupils are dilated, but reactive to light..." muttered the anthropomorphic duck as he clicked off the penlight and took Meredith's pulse.

"What does that mean?" asked Jaming, trying not to sound anxious.

"It's from the venom," Dr. Dell explained, lightly pinching the delicate skin on the back of Meredith's hand. The skin didn't immediately snap back as it should have, and he shook his head. "If you and Pau here hadn't found her when you did and given her that antidote drink, there would have been nothing I could do for her. As it is, she's severely dehydrated. I'll need to set up an I.V., and we'll just have to hope for the best."

This was unacceptable; Jaming wanted a more detailed answer. "But she'll be all right...won't she?"

Dr. Dell adjusted the spectacles on his bill and took a syringe from his bag. "Hopefully yes, but she's a very ill young lady. I'll give her a booster in case she has any poison lingering in her system, but the heat might be a bit of an issue."

Jaming's eyes flicked briefly to his work table, where his new air conditioner still sat in a dismantled pile under a canvas tarp. "There isn't much I can do about that at the moment. I have ice in the freezer, and a fan..."

"Y'all can borrow mine for a couple days," Donny piped up, drawing an astonished look from Jaming.

"You mean you have a _working_ one?" he asked with a trace of indignance.

"Sure do! It's hot as hades this time of year. Now, come on, don't give me that look. When you said you wanted one to scrap for parts, I didn't think you'd _care_ if it was busted."

Jaming shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, you're right. I apologize."

"Ah, don't worry about it. I reckon you've got good reason for snappin'. C'mon, I'll show you where it is." Donny waved for Jaming to follow him and left without waiting to see if he would.

Dr. Dell noticed Jaming's hesitation, and pointed at the doorway. "Go on, she'll be all right for now. We need to get her into some dry clothes anyway."

Julia finally spoke up, and her voice was quiet as if she felt reluctant to let it be heard. "She's about my size. I think I have something that will do."

The duck nodded. "Good, you can help me then."

Jaming blushed and left the garage while Dr. Dell and Julia were still talking, and he had walked about fifteen paces before he realized something. He clenched his fists and yelled over his shoulder. "_Pau! _You get out of there!"

The Moon Person zipped out of the garage, embarrassed and grumbling. "Sheesh, you think I _care_ about seeing a human girl getting changed? Sicko!"

"You _stay_ out of that garage until she's decent!"

* * *

><p>Donny's air conditioner whirred quietly in one of the windows of Jaming's garage, bringing the temperature down from a sweltering 92 degrees to a more comfortable 78 degrees. It was still a bit warmer than Jaming preferred, but the place no longer felt like an oven. Long after he had sincerely thanked everyone for their help and most of them had gone home, Jaming sat in a wooden chair by Meredith's bedside.<p>

Dr. Dell and Pau were still there, and though Jaming appreciated everything they had done, he wished they would go. He knew better than to say so, though. Dr. Dell was the only one who would know what to do if Meredith took a turn for the worse during the night, and Pau...well, Pau was Pau. The only person Jaming knew who was more stubborn than the young Moon Person was Meredith herself.

Right now, Dr. Dell sat with Pau at Jaming's work table, attempting to teach the boy how to play chess. "No, the knights don't move in diagonal lines across the board. Only the bishops and the queen can do that."

"This game is stupid." Pau folded his arms.

"Hm...maybe checkers is more your speed..."

Jaming shook his head and turned his attention back to Meredith. She hadn't opened her eyes at all since he found her in the caves, and now that they were out of that darkness he had something else to stew about. There were a couple marks on her face that he hadn't seen in the dimly-lit caves, and the anger that had swept over Jaming when he realized the bats had bitten her _there _was so sharp and so clear that he had to curb the urge to hit something.

Dr. Dell had assured him that the wounds wouldn't leave any scars, but for now they were impossible to miss. As if her dignity hadn't suffered enough!

_'Those vile creatures bit her on the _face!_ How _dare_ they...'_

Dr. Dell noticed his agitation and tried to offer some friendly advice. "She won't wake up any sooner if you stare at her, son. Why don't you find something to distract yourself with? Find something to work on."

"I _would,_" Jaming replied in a rather snarky voice, "but it seems that you two have taken over my work station."

"Oh, that's all right, we'll move," Dr. Dell began to gather up the chess pieces, to which Pau, not surprisingly, offered no protest.

"No," Jaming said a little sharply, shaking his head. "Just...stay there. I'm all right."

Dr. Dell gave him a curious look, but wordlessly put away the chess board and began dealing out a game of solitaire. Pau showed no interest in the cards, either, but he seemed _very _interested in being a pain in Jaming's neck.

"You don't look all right to _me._"

Jaming reached up to adjust his monocle, but realized he wasn't wearing it and let his hand fall onto his thigh once more. "I said I'm _fine._"

Pau drummed his fingers on the tabletop and gave Jaming a speculative look. "You like her, don't you?"

Too preoccupied to realize exactly what Pau had asked him, Jaming looked confused but not particularly invested in the conversation. "Of course. We're friends."

"That's not what I mean."

"What _do_ you..." Jaming's mouth suddenly became very dry, and he stared at Pau with the same expression a child might have when his parents catch him stealing candy.

"Pau, let him be." Dr. Dell said firmly.

"I can't believe you," Jaming's hands curled into fists as he looked away. "She nearly dies, and just because I show a _reaction_ to it, you accuse me of..."

Startled, Pau leaned so far back that he nearly fell off his stool. "Whoa, hey, calm down! I'm not accusing you of anything. I mean...it's _fine _if you like her that way..."

Jaming shot to his feet, and for a moment Pau thought he was going to cross the room and attack him, but he only moved to the fridge to get himself something to drink. He downed a can of ginger ale in one go, suppressed a burp, and paced agitatedly as he launched into what could only be described as a tirade. "No, it _isn't_ fine. Or, it _wouldn't_ be fine, if there was any truth to that, but there isn't. If I _was _interested in a woman, do you honestly think I would be stupid enough to _tell_ _her?_ I mean, _look _at me! Even if she could get past the way I look, I have nothing to offer her. _Nothing!_ And even if I wasn't a total failure, I don't _deserve_..."

Realizing that he had said entirely too much, Jaming crushed his soda can and tossed it into the bin. "But seeing as how I only view her as a friend, it's a moot point. I'm just glad she's _alive;_ that does not automatically translate into...interest."

Dr. Dell continued to calmly play solitaire as if he hadn't heard a thing. Pau held up his hands as if in surrender, and got up from his seat.

"Okay, okay...sorry. I better go home anyway, though. It's getting late."

"Early," Dr. Dell corrected him. "It's two in the morning. Jaming, if you wouldn't mind stepping aside, I'll check her vitals once more before I go."

Jaming's heart, which was just slowing from its panicked gallop, picked up speed again. "You're leaving?"

"She hasn't come around yet, but she's improved since you brought her here. She'll make a full recovery. You saved her life, son."

Jaming glanced over at Pau, who lingered near the door, and smiled at the exasperating little guy. "I had help. I wouldn't have even known something was wrong, if he hadn't dropped by to put me in my place."

"Aw..." Pau looked down and bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. "_You're _the one who figured it out, and I never could have carried her."

"A joint effort, then," Dr. Dell changed Meredith's I.V. bag and clapped Jaming on the arm on his way out. "Page me when she wakes up, and I'll come by to see how she is."

"Thank you, doctor. And Pau? A little discretion, if you please."

"Huh?" Pau looked confused, then realized that Jaming was talking about Pau's suspicions regarding his crush on Meredith. "Well, according to _you, _there's nothing to tell."

"Right."

_Note:__ Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much. ;)_


	7. Chapter 7: Vigil and Conflict

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ Voice actor fun fact; Cam Clarke, the man who voiced Dr. Jaming in Dark Cloud 2, is also a wonderful singer. I couldn't _not_ take advantage of this. Jaming doesn't sing the words themselves (and FFN frowns upon us using song lyrics), but if anyone is curious he hums the melody for "Someone Else's Star". And yes, you can find Cam's version of the song on YouTube. Give it a listen, it's pretty~_

"Chapter 7: Vigil and Conflict"

_'Reading by candlelight is overrated,'_ Jaming decided, but that wasn't a good term for what he was doing. Staring blankly at the same page for an indefinite stretch of time was more accurate. He worried that leaving on the bright ceiling light, which was simply a naked light bulb with a pull string, would irritate Meredith's eyes when she finally opened them. So, he made do with the candle.

It didn't bother him so much that Pau had so embarrassingly pointed out that his feelings for Meredith were obvious (and in front of Dr. Dell, too!), though this had shocked him badly. What _really_ nettled him was his own ignorance of those feelings before Pau called attention to them. He thought he knew himself very well, but this left him wondering how many others had noticed something that he himself had been completely oblivious to!

And yet, now that it had been brought to his attention, he could hardly deny it and it scared him to death. He wanted to get away from her, to process this on his own, but he couldn't bring himself to leave her bedside. Every time she shifted in her sleep, his head snapped in her direction to see if she was waking up.

_'She can't find out. If Pau lets it slip, I'll simply deny it. I can't imagine my life without her in it...If friendship is all I can have, I won't risk losing it. And anyway, she's alive. _That_ is what is important right now, not my own personal neuroses...'_

Meredith tossed her head a little and lifted a hand as if to ward off some sort of threat. She seemed to be having a nightmare. Was she reliving her experiences from inside the caves?

Jaming dropped his book and took her hand before she could jerk the I.V. tube out of her arm. His heart twisted as she let out a whimper, and he laid a gentle hand on her forehead. "Hey...It's only a dream. You're safe."

She stopped moving, but she frowned in her sleep. Tears seeped out from beneath her eyelids, the tracks shining golden in the candlelight, and she mumbled, "Get 'em off me..."

"Meredith..." Jaming's voice grew hoarse; he felt like crying himself, but that wouldn't benefit her at all. How could he calm her if he couldn't get her to wake up? Then an idea came to him. He had two major assets; his talent for inventing was the one that he took the most pride in, and the other was his love of music, which he tended to keep to himself. He never sang in front of others. _Never._

But could he _really_ deny her this if it might help her?

_'She won't remember it anyway.'_

Jaming cleared his throat, drew a few deep breaths, and began to hum. It was quiet and uncertain at first, but it wasn't long before her face grew relaxed once more, and he continued to sing to her long after he was sure that the nightmare had receded.

* * *

><p>Jaming awoke early that morning with a stiff neck from sitting in that chair all night, and he mentally kicked himself. He hadn't meant to fall asleep! He quickly looked over to see how Meredith was doing, and his dark eyes met her pale ones. She appeared tired and weak, but somewhat amused.<p>

"You snore," she informed him.

"You talk in your sleep," he replied, giving such an expansive stretch that his spine popped. "How are you feeling?"

"I'd like to get my hands on the guy with the sledgehammer..." she muttered, moving to roll over onto her side, but stopping when she realized there was a tube attached to her arm. She thought better of it, and remained where she was.

He blinked, uncomprehending. "Huh? What guy with a sledgehammer?"

"The one inside my head..."

"Well," he snorted, "if you're well enough to joke, you'll be just fine."

It was then that Meredith noticed she wasn't wearing the same clothing as before, and her eyes grew as round as saucers. "Uh, Jaming? Did you, uh..." She couldn't seem to articulate it, and tugged lightly at her sleeve to indicate what she meant.

Jaming's eyes widened as well, and color flooded his cheeks as he hurriedly reassured her. "Oh! No, no, no, that was Julia and Dr. Dell. I was outside when that was done. It was necessary; your clothes were soaking wet."

"Dr. Dell...from Palm Brinks?"

"Yes. He is vacationing here for the week," He said, very glad to change the subject.

"Ah..."

The silence that followed was long and awkward, and Jaming couldn't look her in the eye for very long. He felt her gaze on him every time his eyes wandered away from hers to settle on some random object in the room, so looking away didn't help. _'She hasn't even tried to explain herself...'_

After a while, she spoke again. "You're angry..."

She was partly correct; anger was _one_ of the feelings he was experiencing, so he decided that it was better to admit it than deny it. "What you did was foolish. _And_ you lied to me."

"I didn't..."

"It was a lie by omission. You deliberately avoided telling me where you were going, because you knew I'd try to stop you." He grew motionless when he felt her hand touch his arm, and he instinctively turned to look at her.

"All right..." she conceded, "I truly didn't think of it that way, but I guess you're right."

"What I don't understand is _why._ Where you go is your business, and I have no right to tell you what to do, but I thought you were smarter than that. There is nothing inside those caves that is worth risking your life to obtain. _Nothing._"

"Jaming..."

But Jaming had started something that wasn't so easily stopped, and as his ire rose his voice actually grew lower. "I didn't even _see_ you at first. Do you know how I found you? I _tripped over you._ You were lying on the cave floor, covered in bites, and I thought you were _dead!_ Do you _know _what that was like? Do you have _any _idea?"

Meredith pushed herself into a sitting position and put the pillow between her back and the wall, and Jaming expected that she would be defiant and respond with some sort of wisecrack. He even _hoped _she would, because it would validate his anger and allow him to keep lashing out. What she actually did was unexpected, and it took the wind out of his sails.

"I'm sorry, Jaming...If I knew that would happen, I never would have gone in there. The caves have been empty of monsters since they were cleared out a few months ago, and...well, I've never liked being told what to do. I thought it was safe, and I thought you were just overreacting. I was wrong...I should have listened to you."

He tried to hold on to his anger, because right now it was the easiest emotion to deal with, and he asked bitterly, "Well, was it worth it? Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I did...but it wasn't worth it."

Her blue eyes were sad and remorseful, and he hated to see that. He hated that he had put that look in her eyes, and though he wasn't aware of it, she hated that she had put him through this.

"It _wasn't_ worth it," she said again, reaching out and weakly gripping his hand. "I _don't _know what it was like for you, finding me that way...but I can see what it's done to you. And I'd give anything to take it all back."

He caught himself lightly passing his thumb over her knuckles, and he contemplated the softness of her skin for a nanosecond before he realized what he was doing and stopped. His anger was gone, but in its place was guilt for having told her off, relief that he was actually _able _to do so, and a desire to hold her and never let go. And this last feeling...How very distressing!

"I'm sorry, Jaming. Please, forgive me."

He laughed shortly, rubbing a hand down his face. "Forgive _you?_ I behave like an ass, and you beg _my _forgiveness..."

Meredith smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Such language."

Jaming swallowed hard, finding it difficult to force saliva past the lump that had formed in his throat, and he looked at their hands, which were still linked. There had been some incidental contact here and there, but nothing that one friend wouldn't do with another. This was a first for him, and he didn't quite know how to react to it.

"What _did_ you find?" he asked, somewhat curious in spite of himself.

Meredith heaved a deep sigh and leaned her head back against the wall, looking like she was ready to drift off to sleep once more. She hadn't removed her hand from his, but she was no longer actively holding on. "It should be in my pack, unless it fell out...You've heard of Luna Stones, haven't you?"

_Luna Stones?_ He nodded. Of course he knew about them; his reason for focusing on the Shigura earlier was to keep them from bringing Luna Stones to the Veniccio shore. "They're rumored to increase one's intelligence when they're in close proximity, but why would you want that?"

"Well, I didn't want it for _me._"

He slowly shook his head, wishing she would just speak plainly, but he could see that she was growing fatigued. "If not you, then who else?"

After everything that had happened, Meredith was reluctant to tell him. She had already put him through a horrible night, and she knew that telling him everything would make him feel even worse. She also knew that he would not let the matter drop until he was satisfied, and she finally removed her hand from his and lightly picked at a loose thread sticking out of the blanket that covered her. "Well...You've been so discouraged with how your research is going. It almost seems like you're trying to make up for lost time. There are Luna Stone shards here and there in the ocean, but those have been smashed to bits by the surf. They're not good for much of anything. Pretty to look at, though..."

Jaming listened with dawning horror, and he felt a hollow sickness forming in the pit of his stomach. _'Not for me...No...'_

"The ones that wash into the caves are few and far between, but they're mostly intact. I thought...maybe if you had one, it might help you. It wasn't that I didn't think you could do it _without _one...don't misunderstand me...but I thought a boost might give you your confidence back."

The feeling that nearly crushed Jaming could only be described as agony, and he put his head in his hands. "Ohhh, Meredith...how could you?"

"I thought..."

"I _know_ what you thought. Don't _ever_ risk your safety for me again, do you hear me? Do you think I could live with myself if you died because of me? I've got enough blood on my hands, and that was the blood of my enemies. I won't add my friend's blood to it." He lowered his hands, completely dry-eyed but obviously upset. "I know you wanted to help, but I'm not _worth_ it."

"Well..." she murmured, wiping her eyes. This had been a lousy few days. "Now that we both feel like crap...c'mere."

Jaming's chair was very close to the bed, and there was less than a foot between them from where they sat, so her next action didn't take much effort at all. She reached out, careful not to dislodge her I.V., and hugged him. "I'm s_orry,_ Jaming. I promise I won't do it again. Okay?"

His chin quivered a bit, but that simple gesture made his heart _soar._ Since she had initiated the embrace, Jaming did something he hadn't quite dared to do before. He held her close, his arms infinitely gentle, and lightly rested his cheek against the top of her head. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Pff, that was yelling? You got laryngitis, or something?" she sniffled a bit, but there was amusement in her voice.

"Ah, always with the joking..."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Jaming remembered that he was supposed to do something. "I have to go inform Dr. Dell that you're awake."

No answer.

"Meredith?" Jaming leaned his head back a bit and angled it to look at her face, which was no easy task because her head was resting against his chest. "Meredith?" he tried again, and this time he got an answer of sorts. "Hmph...I'm not the _only_ one who snores, woman."


	8. Chapter 8: Nosey Neighbors

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 8: Nosey Neighbors"

Meredith was able to return home that evening after Dr. Dell was satisfied that she was well on the mend. Jaming was a little sorry to see her go, but he was very relieved to have the place to himself once more. They had both been uncomfortably open that morning, and he wished he had the life experience to know how to go on from there. _She_ would be all right, but how would things be between the two of them after this? He could already tell that getting 'back to normal' would be difficult, if not impossible.

The best thing to do, Jaming decided, would be to finish repairing that air conditioner. Donny had been true to his word, and had come by to reclaim the working unit when he heard that Meredith had gone home.

When Jaming went to remove the canvas tarp, he spied something small and blue nestled among its folds, seemingly placed deliberately where he was sure to see it. "Hm?"

Jaming frowned and picked up the small object, holding it up in front of his eyes between his thumb and index finger, and he nearly dropped it again when he realized what it was. _The Luna Stone._ Meredith had left it behind for him, and there was no way she had done it by accident.

Turning on his heel, Jaming made as if to toss the stone into the waste basket. He halted just short of doing so, his face the very picture of ambivalence. He did not _want _the stone. He had not explicitly _told _Meredith that, which meant that her leaving it behind was not a _direct_ contradiction of his wishes, but he would have thought that it was obvious!

This stone had nearly cost Meredith her life. Her misguided desire to help him had almost killed her. He could hardly stand the sight of it. But to throw it away would negate her efforts, rendering her injuries and her near-death experience utterly pointless. Jaming slowly lowered his hand, feeling the stone clenched in his fist, allowing himself to be _aware _of it. To throw it away would be shamefully disrespectful. It would be tantamount to spitting in her face. And, perhaps, Meredith herself had not known what to do with it and was afraid to ask him.

"Well...all right, Meredith..." he sighed, going over to his small filing cabinet and placing the stone near the back of his least-used drawer. He might not be able to get rid of it, but that didn't mean he wanted to see it.

* * *

><p>The following three weeks, it turned out, were unpleasant weeks for both Jaming and Meredith. At first there were some half-hearted attempts to act as if everything was 'business as usual', but Jaming quickly found himself avoiding her, and she knew it. Before long, she stopped approaching him as she had before, thinking that he didn't want to see her anymore. And, unfortunately, Jaming took this as a sign that <em>she<em> didn't want to see _him._

As senseless and illogical as it seemed, each was avoiding the other, and each was oblivious to the fact that their company was sorely missed. As sometimes happens when there has been a misunderstanding between friends, depression settled upon both of them like a soggy blanket.

In a town as small and isolated as Veniccio happened to be, it was impossible for their neighbors not to notice the change that had come over both of them.

"It's strange, isn't it?" remarked Claire, "He hasn't reached out to _us _much, but those two have been inseparable almost since the day they met. Why are they suddenly acting like they hate each other?"

Granny Rosa looked up from the cross stitch project that rested on her lap, looking troubled. "Oh, now, Claire, _'hate' _is a very strong word. I think they just need their own company for now."

"I just don't get it," Donny said as he hacked at the tough husk of a coconut with his pen knife. "If they miss each other, why don't they go see each other?"

Pau, who sat on the edge of the dock, munched on a carrot as he dangled his feet above the water. _He _had a pretty good idea of the reason why Jaming and Meredith were acting so weird, but he had promised to keep his mouth shut about it. Ah, but it was tempting!

Julia, who stood watching the sunset a little removed from the rest of the group, was only half paying attention. She knew better than any of them, perhaps with the exception of Granny Rosa, that when certain feelings were involved things could get very complicated. Whatever the disagreement between Jaming and Meredith was, if it even existed, it was between the two of them. "Speculation isn't the same as knowing. I think we should let them work it out for themselves."

"Aw, don't be such a goody-two-shoes," chuckled Donny, starting on a new coconut. "I'll bet he has a thing for her, heh heh."

"Maybe..." Claire frowned thoughtfully. "What about _her, _though?"

Donny cracked up at this, and his next choice of words was unfortunate, because he couldn't hear Meredith's approach over the sound of his laughter, and he was sitting with his back facing that direction. "Man, I _doubt _it! Be kinda hard to kiss someone with teeth like _that!_"

Claire blanched, pointing over Donny's shoulder. "Uh, Donny?"

"And he's not the friendliest guy, either," Donny went on, "Besides, I don't think girls go for guys who don't comb their hair."

"Donny..." Claire, did a face-palm. "Turn around."

Donny did so, and he dropped the coconut, which rolled off the dock and fell into the water with a 'plop'. Meredith stood a few feet behind him, arms folded as she leaned casually against a metal building. "Uh...hi, Meredith."

"One," Meredith's voice was positively glacial, but her blue eyes snapped fire. "he _does _comb his hair. It just happens to stick up on its own. Two, in regards to his teeth, he can't help that. Three, I'm offended that you think I'm that shallow. And four, I never would have pegged all of you as the sort of people to be nice to someone's face but to trash them behind their back. On behalf of Jaming and myself, I'm insulted."

"M-Meredith, I'm..." Donny scrambled to his feet, then halted as she held up a hand.

"Save it. I've got nothing to say to any of you." And with that, she turned her back on them and stalked away.

"Ohhh man..." Donny hung his head, ashamed. He didn't _dislike _Dr. Jaming. None of them did. It had only been a joke!

Julia looked down, simply accepting Meredith's rebuke. She hadn't taken part in the unintentional slander, but she hadn't done much to put a stop to it either. Jaming might very well be rather unfriendly, but if this was a sample of how he was used to being treated, he probably had good reason to be!

* * *

><p>None of them realized that Jaming had heard the whole exchange from his seat high above them near the Veniccio station. He had thought that the change in scenery might help get the creative juices flowing, and he was ashamed to admit it to himself, but he thought that it might be more difficult for Meredith to find him up there. She tended to spend more time on the beach and among the seaside vegetation than on the docks proper, and he figured that her turning up there would be unlikely.<p>

Jaming was used to being talked about. Usually he found it more annoying than hurtful, and the things they were saying were actually quite tame compared to what he had overheard from others in the past. It was their speculation on his relationship (if any!) with Meredith, and Donny's derisive attitude about her possible interest in him, that set Jaming's teeth on edge and made his blood boil. At least Julia had politely asked the others to drop the subject, but it was already too late.

He couldn't very well leave the area to escape the gossip right then, because they would see him and realize he had heard! Also, Pau was there, and Pau had guessed the truth weeks ago. Jaming glowered down at him, just _waiting_ for him to open his mouth for something other than a bite of carrot.

Worst of all, _Meredith _had heard it all as well.

_'She'll join in. Or she'll be disgusted. Why did she have to show up when she did?'_

But when she began to scold Donny, Jaming gaped in disbelief. Was she actually _defending _him? He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed that she felt the need to do so, and ashamed of himself for expecting the worst from her.

The exchange was so brief that it was over long before Jaming was through trying to analyze it, and Meredith was long gone when he came down the ramp and headed for his garage. Because he had arranged his face into such a look of calm disinterest, no one who saw him suspected that he had heard a thing.


	9. Chapter 9: Reconciled

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 9: Reconciled"

_'This is silly,'_ thought Jaming as he closed the garage door behind him and strode over to his filing cabinet. _'I've been absolutely miserable all this time, and it seems she has as well. Why have I allowed this to happen?'_

Fear. That was the answer, of course. His fear of rejection had won out over his common sense, and his walls had gone right back up. He wasn't giving Meredith enough credit, and he knew it. She probably _wasn't _interested in him. He found the thought rather laughable, to be honest. Donny was quite correct; women did not tend to find Jaming at all pleasing to look at. But if Meredith did find out the truth, it just wasn't in her to be cruel about it. Jaming had just seen proof of that.

Besides, depression tended to sap his creativity almost entirely, and there was no reason to _stay_ depressed when the solution was so simple. Jaming had kept her at arm's length for weeks, and it had finally sunk in that his actions were having a negative effect on her. He had to talk to her.

Jaming rifled through the filing cabinet, earning himself a nice paper cut in the process, and retrieved the small Luna Stone. Into his pocket it went, and he set out to look for Meredith.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, but the sky had not yet realized that it was nighttime. The others had all gone inside for the night, and Jaming offered up a silent thank-you to whatever god might be listening. He was not pleased with them at the moment, Donny in particular, and the last thing he wanted was an audience!

Jaming eventually found Meredith sitting on the beach, hugging her knees. He was taken aback by how melancholy she looked, and he wondered how much of it was because of him. She was something of a free spirit, and he had always seen her get over things rather quickly. She was usually the one to draw him out of it when he was obsessing over something, always ready with a distraction or a word of encouragement. How much of that had he done for her?

Meredith turned her head to see who was coming, and her expression brightened one minute then darkened the next before she looked out over the ocean again. Had he really been that horrible to her?

He sat down beside her, adopting her posture and resting his forearms on top of his knees. "Hello."

"Hey," she replied, mustering a smile. "Haven't seen much of you lately."

"Yes, well...I guess I had some thinking to do."

She nodded, continuing to stare straight ahead of her. "Yeah...same here."

Meredith fell silent, making no effort to keep the conversation going. Jaming couldn't find the words he wanted. He'd had a whole speech prepared, but it was long gone. He lowered his eyes, feeling the weight of the Luna Stone in his pocket. If those things were supposed to raise a person's intelligence, it must not apply to personal matters, because he didn't feel particularly smart at the moment.

"The heat wave finally seems to be letting up," Meredith remarked.

"So, now we've been reduced to commenting on the weather..." he buried his hand in the sand, letting the tiny grains, still warm from the sun, sift through his fingers. _He_ had really been the one avoiding _her;_ all of the awkwardness between them had been brought about by him.

"Well, the weather is usually a safe topic," She pointed out, and when Jaming didn't reply she asked in a warmer tone of voice, "How've you been?"

He sighed, still messing around with the sand. "I've...just had some things on my mind. Not the thing's you're probably thinking of, but it's nothing to worry about."

"Well, _now_ you've got my interest piqued."

But Jaming shook his head, not quite ready to go down that path. "Don't worry about it."

Masking her hurt feelings, Meredith rested her chin on her arms. "Suit yourself."

_'I've done it again...'_ Regret washed over him, and he wished, not for the first time, that he looked like everyone else. Maybe then he wouldn't be such a coward, and he wouldn't keep hurting her in his efforts to guard his own heart.

Why _had _she gone into those caves to get him a Luna Stone? Maybe she _did _pity him, and if this were the case...

No. He dismissed that thought immediately, because he had seen pity, and that wasn't what this had been. _What, _then?

Maybe it didn't matter. The results were the same, and their friendship was under a strain. It was obvious that she didn't want it to be this way anymore than he did, but what could be done?

He reached into his pocket and brought out the Luna Stone piece. It was about the size and color of a robin's egg, but oddly shaped, and in the semi-darkness it gave off a faint glow. He hadn't noticed _that _before.

Movement out of the corner of Meredith's eye caught her attention and she looked over, but she quickly averted her gaze when she saw what he was holding.

Jaming ran his finger down the smooth, cool surface of the stone. "They...really _are _pretty, aren't they?" he said, as if noticing this for the first time. "I never did thank you."

"You don't thank for that," her voice quivered a little.

Jaming curled his fingers around the stone, hiding it from view, and he could feel it taking on the warmth of his hand. "Why not? There are _other _things tied to this stone. Things I'm _very_ thankful for."

"You just ended a sentence with a preposition."

"While I'm not thankful that you seem to have joined the grammar police," he smirked, "I'm _very _thankful that you're still here. I'm thankful that you cared for me enough to go looking for this, however ill-advised it might have been."

She stared incredulously at him before shaking her head. "Man, you're something else..."

He put the stone back into his pocket, more than a little disheartened. He had blown it. "Sorry..."

"No, I meant that as a compliment," she told him, "Listen, I'd love to put all this awkwardness behind us. What do you think?"

He smiled then. "My thoughts exactly. And I apologize. It was..."

The words caught in his throat then, and he lost his nerve. She seemed to pick up on this, though, and put a light hand on his arm.

"What?"

And that quickly, his heart was beating so fast that he feared she could hear it. She deserved to know the truth, or at least some of it. "Well, it...it was due to...insecurities."

She blinked, then shook her head. "Ya lost me."

And at that, Jaming snorted. "I almost did; that's the problem. And it...made me realize a few things."

Meredith waited patiently for him to continue, and she was glad the darkening sky hid her blush. _'He really doesn't _know, _does he?'_

But Jaming didn't continue, fearing he had said far too much. At least she wasn't laughing at him, but...

Turning so that she was facing him more fully, Meredith tried to search his face for anything that might tell her for sure what he was getting at, but he had turned his head so that he was looking away from her. "Look...if you want to tell me something, I promise I won't laugh at you. Something's been bugging you lately. Maybe I can help."

Jaming closed his eyes, voices from the past surfacing unbidden in his mind. Being cruelly rejected by his first crush, then getting the snot kicked out of him when her boyfriend, whom he didn't even know about, learned about it. The ridicule, the constant teasing. Always being put in his place for so much as daring to breathe. Ugly. _Ugly. __**Ugly.**_

Meredith would not laugh at him. She had promised. He trusted her. "What would you say if I...told you...I...had feelings...for you? Feelings that...go beyond...simple friendship. Even though I've no right to..."

Meredith felt her heart beginning to break for him as she realized just how much he truly despised himself. "Ah, Jaming..."

"I know..." he nodded, wanting to escape once more, but he had frozen as if caught in the blinding beam of a spotlight. "You don't feel the same way. I understand."

"So, now you're telling me how I feel," she sounded a little amused, and she reached out and gently turned his head so that he was looking at her. Too shocked to resist, he let her. "You _do _have the right to your feelings."

"Maybe...but I didn't want you to know, because if you found out..." He swallowed hard, painfully aware that he couldn't completely close his mouth as he did so. His teeth...his damned _teeth!_

"What did you think would happen?" she whispered, her hand still resting on his cheek.

Why hadn't she taken her hand away?

"Just say it, and get it over with."

Lord, was he really _that _obtuse? She smiled, his apprehension giving her courage where previously she'd had none. "I have feelings for you, too."

"You...what?" His eyes widened so that his monocle fell off his face and bounced lightly off the back of her wrist.

"I wasn't going to tell _you_, either. The last time I did that, it didn't exactly go well...See, I was a bit of a dork when I was a kid. Big thick glasses, always tripping over my own feet..." She lowered her hand from his face and looked out over the soft ocean waves. "I didn't really have friends back then, except for one. I was...well, I guess I developed a bit of a crush on him. And eventually, I felt safe enough to tell him."

Jaming was completely gobsmacked by what he was hearing. There didn't seem to be anything physically wrong with her at all, and yet some of what she was saying mirrored things that had happened to _him!_ "What happened?"

"Oh...he acted like I'd said the most disgusting thing imaginable. Next day the whole school knew, and I was down from one friend to zero." She spoke blithely, as if telling him this didn't bother her at all. "I sort of lost my nerve after that. But eventually, I traded in my specs for contacts. I finished my growth spurt, and stopped being so clumsy. Pretty much gave up on trying to join the dating scene, but it didn't bother me so much. And I guess I'm still a bit of a dork, even if I don't really look the part these days."

Jaming shook his head slowly. "I don't think you're a 'dork'. But...I really don't see how it'd work out. I mean..."

She cocked her head in that manner he found so charming, and asked, "What's to 'work out', exactly? Other than helping you get your self-confidence out of the toilet, I mean?"

He still couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. What if this was some elaborate, cruel joke she was playing on him? Such things had happened to him before. But deep down, he knew that wasn't true. Even so, he felt that she deserved better, and he hung his head, feeling an odd mixture of sadness and hope. "Meredith, just _look_ at me! Look at what I've done! The blood on my hands will never be washed clean, I have nothing to offer you, and..."

Jaming gulped, and vaguely gestured to his mouth. "Meredith, I can't even _kiss_ you...It's physically impossible."

Meredith's reply wasn't a verbal one. She leaned closer, pausing when her face was an inch away from his to gauge his reaction, and when he simply looked at her and didn't lean away from her she softly planted a peck at the corner of his mouth before whispering, "_I_ can kiss _you._"

He lowered his eyes to hide the fact that they were beginning to fill up, and lightly brushed the back of her hand with his knuckles. She turned her hand so that the palm faced upward, and seizing his courage, he laced his fingers with hers. Turquoise against ivory. "Then...what happens now? This is well out of my area of expertise."

She giggled softly and leaned her head against his shoulder as they gazed up at the double moon. "Not a damn clue."

_Note:__ So yeah, Meredith ended up having to hit Jaming with a 'clue-by-four'. Sorry if things have begun to drag a little. I think I might focus on humor for the next chapter or two._


	10. Chapter 10: Back to Work

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ This has got to be my shortest chapter to date. To anyone who is following along, thanks for sticking with me!_

"Chapter 10: Back to Work"

Construction on a second floating platform had begun. It was still in the early stages, and Meredith thought it looked a bit like a child's jungle gym, or a turtle made completely out of scaffolding. She tried to keep the uneasy expression from her face as she carefully asked, "Jaming, why do you _need_ another one of those?"

Jaming easily read between the lines, but he wasn't at all offended. "I don't specifically need another one to _use,_ just to _have._ The original design was my first success. Incidentally, it was also my _only_ success," This was mostly true. He'd had many successes, but the first floating platform was the only Aeroharmonics prototype that hadn't literally blown up in his face. "As flawed and imperfect as it was, it _worked._ If I can successfully recreate it, I'll be able to improve on it." He drew himself up to his full height and held up a finger as if making an important declaration. "My dear, you are observing the genesis of the world's first flying vehicle."

She liked it when he got on his inventor's soapbox, because it was the only time he was almost manically _animated._ His enthusiasm was contagious, and she found herself picturing what she thought the results would look like. "And then?"

He chuckled, in one of his rare cheerful moods, and tightened a nut on the scanty framework that lay half-assembled on a tarp in the middle of the floor. "I learned a long time ago that planning too far ahead results in my doing nothing at all."

"Racing thoughts?"

"Hm?"

"Well, that's what happens to me when I think too much about future projects," she explained, feeling no need to elaborate on the sort of projects she tended to work on. She had carved out a little niche for herself as a trinket vendor, selling seashell jewelry and mesh bags for beachcombers whenever the Blackstone One passed through. "I'll get bored and jump from one project to the next, and before I know it I've got ten unfinished pieces cluttering up my desk. That's probably not the same thing..."

But he was nodding in agreement with her. "The only differences are the projects themselves. Keeping one's mind on the task at hand is essential. I could sit and sketch out blueprints for days, but that's only part of it. If we never move beyond the beginning steps, we've got nothing to show for it."

"That's it exactly!" she grinned.

There was a knock at the door, followed by the jiggling of the door handle as someone tried to come in, but Jaming had locked it out of habit. He had learned pretty quickly that Pau had a habit of just walking in without being admitted, and Jaming guessed that this was because the cave he lived in had no door. Without bothering to peek through the curtains, Jaming called out, "Pau, we've talked about this."

Pau's voice filtered through the closed door as he asked, totally oblivious, "What? I knocked. Can I come in?"

"Meredith, would you mind?"

Meredith got up from the bench she had been sitting on, and opened the door. "Hey, Pau. What's that you've got there?"

Pau strolled in with what appeared to be a small, round tin. "Cookies. Donny sent them."

Jaming raised an eyebrow, looking both skeptical and touched by this. "That was nice of him. I didn't know he knew how to bake..."

Pau shrugged his shoulders and set the tin down on the table. "I think he's trying out a new hobby."

"Well, you two go ahead. I want to finish this first," Jaming gestured for Pau and Meredith to help themselves.

Pau opened the tin and pointed at the mangle of scrap metal that lay before them. "What_ is _that? A jungle gym?"

Feigning offense, Jaming shook his wrench at Pau like a scolding finger. "No, and if I catch you climbing on it I'll tie your ears together."

The Moon Person was not impressed, and laughed disdainfully. "You'd have to catch me first, slowpoke." Helping himself to a cookie, Pau took a large bite, but his chewing slowed as the ears in question shot straight up before twisting around themselves. "Mgh!" he began to cough.

Alarmed, Meredith pounded him on the back. "You okay?"

Pau spat the mouthful into the trash can, causing Jaming to curl his lip in disgust. Still grimacing, Pau held out the cookie to Meredith. "This is disgusting, taste it."

Meredith quirked an eyebrow, accepted the cookie, and took a bite out of the other side of it before making a slight face. "Gaw...why did I_ taste _that?" Unlike Pau, she forced down the mouthful. "Poor Donny...I think he might have used vinegar instead of vanilla."

Pau, who was wiping his tongue with his paws, stopped long enough to ask, "Couldn't he smell the difference?"

"Not when his hay fever's acting up," Meredith put the lid on the cookies, which, if they had been made properly, would have been coconut macaroons. It really was a shame! Other than that one glaringly obvious mistake, she could tell that they would have turned out perfect. They weren't even burnt!

Jaming felt an odd combination of sympathy and amusement over Donny's little mistake; he knew what it was like to be so excited over something only to see it end in failure, but he had to admit that Pau's reaction had been funny! "Let's not tell him. I'm sure his next effort will be a success...provided he can get his hands on some nasal spray."


	11. Chapter 11: Mix-Up

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ Another short chapter. Thanks, WanderingSoulofTime for this suggestion! I had to mull this one over a bit, though, to figure out how exactly this scenario should play out. The post office makes mistakes all the time, but...well, men are men. Content warning: This chapter deals with slightly risqué subject matter, but hopefully it's more humorous than salacious._

"Chapter 11: Mix-Up"

Shortly after Donny's unfortunate foray into the world of baking, a small post office was established in Veniccio, and Jaming took advantage of it by ordering some more parts for his platform. A week later, on his third day of checking to see if his package had arrived, Jaming left the post office with it in his arms.

He had to admit, though, that while the parcel was smaller than he had expected, it was deceptively heavy. As he closed the garage door behind him, he noticed something odd. The name that was written on the box was 'Jammer' instead of 'Jaming', and after a moment's consideration he decided that it was simply a typo and he used his tin snips to cut the tape. This was not, of course, the _proper _use for that particular tool, but it was the closest cutting instrument within reach, and he was eager to inspect the box's contents.

He opened the box, brushing aside some styrofoam packing peanuts...then quickly shut the box again in absolute shock. "Whoa!" The heat that rose in his cheeks rivaled that of the Veniccio sun. _The box was full of adult magazines!_

Jaming glanced around as if to make sure he was alone, then frowned at the closed box on which his badly-trembling hands rested. "Well..._that's_ something you don't expect to see every day..."

A good many somethings, in fact. How in the world had he gotten a box of...of _those_ instead of the machine parts he had ordered? There must have been some sort of mistake. Yes! The name on the box was very much like his own, but it wasn't exactly the same. Of course! Someone must have been in a hurry, and delivered these magazines to the wrong person.

_'Won't _he_ be disappointed when he opens his box and finds some modified speakers and a circuit board...'_

How very tedious! Now Jaming would have to tape up the box once more, bring it all the way back to the post office, see that it's mailed to the correct recipient, and try to locate his _own_ parcel.

Jaming drummed his fingers nervously on top of the box as he glanced around for some packing tape. The image he had so briefly glimpsed seemed to be seared into the backs of his eyes, which drifted speculatively back to focus on the box once more. "Hm..."

There was no one around. Who was to know? "I suppose there's no harm in taking a quick peek..."

With a slightly guilty expression, Jaming glanced around again before opening the box and leafing through the magazine that rested at the top of the stack. Predictably, though, this indiscretion backfired and he abruptly dropped the magazine back into the box, swept a handful of packing peanuts over it, put the box up on a high shelf, and made a beeline for the ocean. Praying that he would encounter no one on the way (or that if he did, they wouldn't happen to glance down), he muttered to himself, "That water had better be _freezing..._"

He waded into the surf, fully clothed, and dove beneath the surface. The water was bracingly (and blessedly!) cold, and in between thoughts of, _'Why did I look at that?'_, _'Meredith has those...'_, and _'Gaaaah, stop _thinking _about it!'_, his raging hormones finally calmed down.

As he left the ocean, he mused, _'It would seem that a life of repression can have some rather embarrassing consequences.'_

After making a stop at his tree house home to dry off and change his clothes, Jaming found Meredith sitting in his garage with a box on her lap. For one awful moment he thought that she had found the box of illicit material, but then he realized that the box she held was bigger, and the other box was still on the shelf. "Meredith...hello."

"Hi," she smiled, "I wouldn't normally walk in, but you left the door open, so I figured you'd be back in a few minutes. I was just getting my mail, and the postman said that this came for you. He said you were there earlier, but he thinks he gave you the wrong box."

Boy, did he ever!

Jaming gave a nervous, rather high-pitched laugh, and ran a hand through his still-damp hair. Right after he had smoothed it down, it sprang stubbornly back up, reminding him uncomfortably of something else. "Ehehehe! Yes, I uh, found that out." Then he cleared his throat, and tried to sound casual. "You didn't happen to open the one they sent by mistake, did you?"

She squinted one eye a bit and slowly shook her head. "Nooo...why?"

"Oh, no reason," he said airily.

Meredith's face slowly morphed into a rather shrewd expression. Then she shrugged, probably having assumed something that was pretty close to the truth if the mischievous glint in her eye was any indication, but she only said, "Oookay. Well, I'll see you later."

Jaming kept a look of utmost innocence plastered on his face as he saw her out, and when he softly shut the door after her he methodically tapped his forehead three times against it and chanted under his breath, "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

Blushing furiously, he went to tape the box filled with naughty reading material absolutely shut. It was time to run an errand to the post office. _Without _peeking this time!


	12. Chapter 12: Origin Points

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ I thought it might be fun to explore their backgrounds and flesh out their pasts a little bit, and this is the result. Nothing exciting, but it was fun to write out their rapport! Also, I didn't intend for things to get this sad, but the characters had other ideas._

"Chapter 12: Origin Points"

"Ah, thank you," Jaming said over his shoulder as Meredith dropped a newspaper on the floor next to him. "Been to the post office, have you?"

"Uh-huh."

Jaming didn't doubt for a second that Meredith had gotten a pretty good laugh at his expense as soon as he had shut the door after her, but he was relieved that she hadn't made so much as a veiled reference to it since then, and within a week he had forgotten all about it. Mostly.

It had become their custom to meet in his garage on days when she wasn't working at her stall on one of the shop boats, and the two of them would catch up on current events, an activity that was usually accompanied by a snack of some sort. As Jaming used a tattered old cloth to wipe grease from his hands, he did a double-take at the headline. "What the deuce is a 'Finny Frenzy'?"

"Oh, that..." Meredith sat down next to him on the floor and looked at the back of the envelope she carried. "Claire told me about that weeks ago. It's a fish race. One of her father's pet projects. She seemed fairly excited about it, and I can understand why, but I don't see the point of racing _fish._ It sounds an awful lot like trying to herd cats!"

"_That_ can actually be done," replied Jaming, grinning a trifle wickedly, "as long as you have a fish to use as bait. Then they'll follow you anywhere."

Meredith rolled her eyes, sliding her thumb underneath the flap of her envelope to open it. "Something tells me you haven't had your morning coffee."

"No, and I need it," he got up to wash his hands at his small utility sink.

"Don't tell me. You worked through the night again." It wasn't a question, but she didn't follow it up with a lecture. She didn't like to see him push himself to exhaustion, but it was really his choice to make, and he didn't seem to do it very often.

"Very well; I won't tell you."

She shook her head, and as she read through her letter her smile slowly faded.

Jaming turned on his coffee pot, and frowned as he noticed this. "Is everything all right?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah...Just a letter from home. My mother is thinking about coming here to visit..."

Jaming ambled back over and sat down beside her, spreading the newspaper out in front of them so that they could both read it. "Is that a bad thing?"

Meredith didn't answer right away, and she didn't notice as he leaned over to peek at the letter until he asked her a follow-up question.

"And who is this 'Cricket' person?"

Holding the letter to her chest to hide the text, Meredith leaned away and pretended to glare at him. "Back off, nosey parker," Then, smiling a tad ruefully, she explained, "It's...well, it's my nickname."

Giving her a smile that so few others ever got to see, Jaming asked mischievously, "Is she the only one who gets to call you that? Because that's just priceless."

She swatted him with the letter before putting it away, but she was still smiling. "That depends. Can I call you 'Jam-Jam'?"

"No," he said flatly, and after a beat of silence they burst out laughing.

"Well, whatever...as long as you don't call me 'Cricket' in public, I guess I don't mind. But no, her coming here isn't a _bad_ thing per se. We just...don't always get along."

"Mm..." Jaming looked down at the paper, skimming through the uninteresting articles. He hoped the coffee would be ready soon, because he was in that slightly goofy, slightly thoughtful mood of the sleep-deprived.

"What about you?" Meredith asked, and at first he couldn't fathom what she was asking him.

"What _about _me?"

"Well...you've never mentioned _your _parents. I'm curious. What are they like?"

Jaming's expression didn't change, other than to turn 'inward' somehow, and he pointed out, "Before today, you haven't mentioned your mother either. Or, indeed, any of your family."

"Yes, I guess that's true."

Jaming turned the page, absentmindedly forgetting to ask her if she was done reading yet, and said evenly, "My parents have passed away."

Meredith's face fell. Open mouth, insert foot! "Oh, I'm sorry...I didn't know."

But he waved off her apology with a gentle shake of his head. "How could you know if I didn't tell you? I don't think about it much. It was a long time ago. But I think...they would have liked you very much."

Meredith was more perceptive than that and she put her arm around him for a moment, softly rubbing his shoulder. He might not think about it much, but that didn't mean that he didn't miss them. In response, he turned his head towards her and lightly nudged his nose against her cheek in a sort of modified kiss, since the conventional type was something he would never be able to do.

"It's all right, Meredith, really. Do you know something?"

"Hm?"

"No one has _ever _asked me about them before,"

Jaming realized that he could no longer hear brewing sounds from the coffee pot, and a glance told him that it was ready. "How about this; I'll get us some coffee and clear a space on the table, and if you give me a minute, I'll figure out how to begin."

"Jaming, you don't have to talk about them if you don't want to."

"Actually...I welcome the opportunity." And he did. His parents had been his strongest (and, indeed, his only) supporters when he was a boy, and up until now he'd had no one to share the _good_ memories with. He only hoped that none of these memories would cause him to become emotional, because he truly _hated_ crying. That sort of thing accomplished nothing other than an increase in nasal mucus and a decrease in dignity. And that was to say nothing of his male pride! Still, it wasn't as if she hadn't seen him do it before.

While he was getting their space ready, Meredith opened her pack and withdrew their snack, which was simple enough. Buttermilk biscuits, a small container of butter, and another small container of honey. She assumed that he had worked through breakfast, and she was correct. He didn't even begin speaking until he had polished off his first biscuit, and she didn't press him to hurry.

Finally, Jaming washed the biscuit down with some coffee and began to talk. "Let's see, now...Well, first of all, as you might have guessed, I don't physically resemble _either_ of my parents. The theory was advanced by several doctors that both of them carried the recessive gene for an unknown genetic mutation, resulting in..."

He paused, realizing that he had lapsed into technical jargon, but when she nodded and he saw that her eyes weren't glazing over as he feared they might, he went on, "Well, blue skin. Blue _hair_ isn't completely unheard of. There was...a Sage by the name of Crest who had blue hair." A shadow crossed his face, and he looked down for a moment. "Anyway...they tried to shield me from the world, of course. My father was a schoolteacher. I inherited my physical build from him. They enrolled me in the school where my father worked, in the hopes that his close proximity would make things easier on me."

Meredith winced. "I think I see where this is going..."

Jaming nodded wryly, stirring his coffee. "You probably do...It opened the door for accusations of preferential treatment. Children aren't convincing liars, but when many of them tell the same story, people tend to believe them. Complaints were made, and my father faced an inquiry. When he refused to make a formal apology to the parents who complained to the school board, he was discharged from his position."

"But that's ridiculous!"

A little startled by the anger in her voice, Jaming blinked then nodded once. "Ridiculous and unfortunate, but that's what happened. My mother, who worked as a mechanic, didn't make enough to support all of us, and my father's pride would not allow it. So, after trying to find employment elsewhere and failing to do so, my father announced that we were moving. And it became a pattern until, finally, they decided that I would be homeschooled."

Jaming wondered if he was really giving Meredith what she had asked for, or if he was talking too much about himself. When he voiced this concern, she shook her head no.

"Talking about how the three of you are connected isn't the same as just talking about yourself. That's so sad, though..."

That statement came dangerously close to sounding like pity, and Jaming was quick to offer up a denial. "Actually, being taken out of public school was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never had my shoes stolen after that, or came home with a bloody nose, or...well, you get the idea, I'm sure. I got my zeal for learning from my father. And, while I was being homeschooled, I was around my mother more than ever before. It was through her that I learned to love technology. Do you know what my first invention was?"

"Uh-uh."

"Well," he fidgeted in his seat a bit, warming up to the subject. "she would complain about having to put down either her coffee or her breakfast muffin to turn the page of her newspaper, and Father finally got sick of hearing about it, so he said, 'Well, why don't you just go into your garage and cobble together a machine that'll do it _for_ you?'." Jaming lowered his voice slightly and added a bit of a gravelly quality to it in what was a surprisingly accurate imitation of his father's voice, though Meredith couldn't possibly know just how accurate it was.

Meredith giggled, and pointed out, "Well, now I know who you got your sass from!"

Jaming wagged a finger at her. "Preposition..." he sing-songed, then burst out laughing when she grabbed his finger.

"Oh, hush!" She was laughing too, and it took them several minutes to settle down because they kept setting each other off.

"Actually," he continued, "I believe I got it from _both_ of them. But anyway, she threw her paper at him, and I went off into the garage to see if _I_ could do it. Make a page turner, that is. And I did! She was so pleased with it..."

Inside his head, Jaming could see all of this play out as clear and plain as if it had just happened that morning. The smell of oil that constantly lingered in his garage was nearly identical to the smell that permeated his mother's old workshop. The tempting aroma of biscuits and honey were almost the same as the remembered smell of that breakfast so long ago when an eight-year-old Jaming had presented his mother with a gift she cherished to the end of her days. The memories were so powerful, so _real,_ that he could almost _swear_ his mother was standing right behind him at that very moment. He could almost _smell _her perfume. He came quite close to throwing a look over his shoulder just to make sure!

_'When was the last time I'd smelled my mother's perfume? What was it even _called? _It began with an 'L', didn't it? Damn...I can't remember! But the scent...I'll never forget it.'_

Meredith grew worried as Jaming stared straight ahead, clearly seeing something that wasn't there, and the old grief that hovered just out of reach behind his eyes was almost palpable at that moment. She touched his back, and her voice was almost a whisper as she asked him, "Jaming? Are you okay?"

Seeming to come up for air, he drew in a deep breath and nodded, giving a small, reassuring smile. "Oh, yes. I just haven't thought about that in _years._ I'd all but forgotten the way they would trade comments back and forth. It was almost a kind of gentle warfare between them, but they never went too far with it. Sometimes the memories are so clear that I almost forget I can't just call them up and...and..."

His voice broke, and he quickly turned his head away in embarrassment. "Damn...I'm sorry, Meredith...I told myself I wouldn't do this..."

She made a small noise of sympathy and put her arm around him. "You don't have to apologize, Jaming...I understand perfectly. There's not a day goes by that I don't miss my father."

He turned towards her again, looking surprised through his tears, but then he remembered; Meredith had only mentioned her _mother _in connection to the letter. It hadn't occurred to him that her father might not be in the picture anymore! "Oh, Meredith...how long ago?"

Meredith reached up and cupped his face between her hands, wiping his tears away, but it was a futile action as more replaced them. She smiled sadly, her cheeks damp with the evidence of her own grief. "Forever...Almost a year now."

"I know what you mean," he mirrored her gesture, tenderly wiping her cheeks with his fingertips before drawing her close and giving her the hug they both needed. "I'm so very sorry."

"Hey!" Pau's voice from the doorway caused them to jump. "What's with all the boo-hooing in here?"

Jaming was embarrassed, but he was also indignant. They had both barely even been _sniffling_. 'Boo-hooing' indeed! He squinted over Meredith's shoulder before whispering in her ear, "Somebody needs to put a bell on him, or something."


	13. Chapter 13: Finished Product

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 13: Finished Product"

Construction of the first successful floating platform had taken nearly half a year to complete, and as Jaming buffed and polished the curved sides of his replacement platform to remove all traces of fingerprints and grime, he was privately amazed at how much less time it had taken him to build this one. He had finished it in just under three months, with nothing more than an incomplete stack of notes and his own memory.

This one looked a little different, though. Here he didn't have unlimited access to materials, and he had to make do with what he could find or modify on his own. With its muted shades of dark gray steel and its lack of flashy trappings, this second platform looked downright boring. And yet, somehow, Jaming was far more proud of _this_ one, because it symbolized a new beginning.

He had done it. Neither Emperor Griffon nor Gaspard had anything to do with its completion. It had all been _him._

But the question remained; would it actually _work?_

Jaming carefully avoided touching the button that would send his newest creation whirring to life, and he thought to himself, _'It has to.'_

While he hadn't by any means been a high-ranking member of Griffon's forces, and had only seen his mysterious former boss one time, he knew plenty about what Griffon's plans were. Jaming had begun his venture into darkness by pledging to use his skills to wipe out important origin points in order to alter the future. As much as he told himself that he hadn't known what he was signing up for, this wasn't entirely true. Right from the start, he'd had a nagging doubt in the back of his mind, but he had done all he could to ignore it.

Now, having been cast adrift by Griffon with a clearer mind and a repentant heart, Jaming was still left with the horrible knowledge of what the future might hold. And maybe, just maybe, he could still do something about it and possibly redeem himself. Veniccio's future was dependent on the Shigura and the Luna Stones, and if he could use his skills to protect them instead of driving them away, he might be able to help ensure Veniccio's safety.

Or maybe he was displaying a different side of the same inventor's hubris, but in any case, he knew that he would have to try.

It would work. Of course it would. He'd gone over the notes and his own memories ad nauseam, and he could find absolutely no reason why this platform wouldn't work as well as the last one.

Well, maybe _one_ reason. The materials he'd had to use were of a different density, and the equations he'd had to use in order to figure out the proper thickness of certain bits and bobs were mind-numbingly difficult. If just _a single _digit was off by one, things could still go disastrously wrong.

But if it _did_ work...

He shook his head and stepped back to admire it, and he remembered that he was not alone in the garage. Meredith and Pau were there, and he nearly jumped when Meredith finally spoke.

"Wow...It looks _amazing!_"

"I take it that's a compliment?" Jaming asked, feeling uncharacteristically unsure. He wasn't used to having an audience when he tested something for the first time. If he succeeded, then all would be well. If he failed? Well...he preferred to endure that shame alone!

"You _know_ it's a compliment," she grinned, tempted to reach out and touch the platform, but she knew he wouldn't like that.

"How are you gonna get it out of here?" asked Pau.

Jaming froze, looking horrified as if realizing he had forgotten something important, but he couldn't keep up the charade for long and he chuckled. "Press that button by the door, Pau, and you'll see."

Pau did so, looking skeptical, and he and Meredith received quite a shock when the roof actually opened up, unfolding like the petals of a flower. "Wow, _neat!_"

Jaming walked back over to the platform, still riding his high. "Did you think I wouldn't have planned ahead for that?"

"How should _I_ know? Floating platforms that use _sound?_ You have to admit, it sounds crazy if you've never heard of such a thing. No offense." Pau added.

Jaming shrugged, uncaring. He was so used to criticisms when it came to his inventions that he didn't even hear them anymore. "None taken. But I _have_ done it before. So, statistically speaking, the odds of success should be even greater now."

Pau scratched his furry chin and asked, "Well...are you gonna start it up, or are you just gonna stare at it?"

Jaming almost told him that 'just staring at it' felt safer somehow, but he thought better of it and smiled at Meredith. "Well, what do you think? Should I?"

"Go for it," she smiled back, trying not to roll her eyes as Pau hid behind her.

"All right...here goes, in three...two..." Jaming touched his index finger to the button, drew a deep breath, then said, "_one!_"

He pressed the button, then backed up several paces and gestured for them to do the same. The platform sputtered to life, and from deep within came, strangely enough, the muffled cacophony of loud music, heavy on electric guitars and keyboard synthesizers. _This was it._

The floor beneath them vibrated, and the platform slowly began to rise off of the garage floor, so slowly that Jaming wasn't sure at first that he wasn't imagining it. Then it was an inch off the floor. Two inches. Five inches. Moving ever closer to the night sky. _It was working!_

But even as Jaming breathed in to give a loud whoop of triumph, the platform began to wobble precariously and he choked on his own breath. His heart, which had been rising right along with his platform, his pride and joy, sank. The platform was beginning to spark and smoke. Slowly, dangerously, the platform began to rotate three feet off the air, wobbling more and more fiercely as it struggled to remain airborne. Jaming knew what was coming next, because this had happened before.

"_No!_" Jaming screamed, slamming his fist down on the button that would close the garage's roof once more. He couldn't bring himself to imagine what would happen to the people of Veniccio if the platform tore a rogue path through the town! And he'd hardly had time to turn away from the button when the platform banked sharply to the side and slammed into a wall. Then it zipped up and bounced from the ceiling. "Out, now, _run! Go!_"

Meredith and Pau, who had been rooted to the spot and unable to look away, jumped as they were grabbed and shoved out of the garage. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, and as the crashes and sounds of destruction continued for nearly fifteen seconds, the three of them stood at a safe distance away. Jaming held Meredith protectively as he watched in anguish as his creation finally sputtered its last.

Pau peeked out from behind them, his ears slowly rising once more from where they had been lying flat on his head.

Jaming loosened his grip on Meredith, unable to look at her.

"Ohhh, no..." she whispered.

Jaming took a step towards his garage.

"Jaming?" Meredith asked timidly, "Honey?"

She had never called him that before. He took another step.

Pau looked up at Meredith, and chose the exact wrong thing to say at the exact wrong moment. In an effort to lighten things up a little, he said nervously, "Well...it went out with a bang, not a whimper."

Meredith gave Pau a scowl that was full of shocked anger and sadness, and she murmured reproachfully, "He really worked _hard,_ Pau..."

It was really Pau's words that set Jaming into motion, but it was his girlfriend's sympathy that caused something to snap within him. What was once a slow walk quickly began to pick up speed, so that by the time he reached the garage and slammed the door behind him he was almost moving along at a run. He had failed. Again. And he had done it in front of _her._

Pau's ears flattened again, and at first he and Meredith thought that the platform still had some juice left over, but when the crashes were joined by a loud string of creative profanity, they realized what they were witnessing an absolute meltdown.

Pau gaped and clapped his hands over his ears, pressing the flaps against his cheeks, but Meredith simply stood, wide-eyed, and stared at the closed door.

"I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to set him off like that..." Pau had to raise his voice to be heard.

Meredith sighed, wincing at the crash-tinkle of glass breaking and at Jaming's scream of '_why?'_, and sat down on a small boulder to wait out the storm. "It would have happened anyway, I think. This...has crushed him."

"What should we do?"

There was another loud crash, some more yelling, and Meredith rested her chin on her hand. "I think he'll be a while. Why don't you go home? I'll check on him when it's quiet."

"Meredith, I'm sorry...I didn't mean..."

"I know...go on, I'll talk to him."


	14. Chapter 14: Fallen

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ You guys could probably see this coming. Everyone has the occasional 'last straw' moment, and even the most reserved person is capable of having one heck of a meltdown. So, you've been warned. Also, this chapter carries a __**trigger warning**__ for blood and a self-inflicted but accidental injury. In short, punching the wall is bad._

"Chapter 14: Fallen"

Never taking her eyes off the door, Meredith waited until she was alone to let out a sigh and rub her face. She knew better than to get in the line of fire; an accidental injury after all of _this_ would just be the icing on the cake! And it would probably be worse for him than it would be for her.

Meredith wasn't even sure if Jaming would _want _to be seen, but she couldn't leave until she was sure he would be okay. He had been so _hopeful._ So much was riding on the hopes that he would succeed. He had been counting on it. And now those hopes were all but destroyed. In a very real sense, _he _had crashed right along with his platform.

The sounds went on for longer than Meredith expected, but in time the night was totally and eerily quiet. She waited for ten seconds. Twenty. And she heard nothing more from within. She got to her feet and cautiously approached the garage, putting an ear to the door. She couldn't even hear him breathing. She knocked softly, and waited.

Nothing.

"Jaming?"

There was the soft noise of debris shifting, as if someone who had been sitting on the floor was changing their position a little in response, but that was it. The light wasn't even on, probably broken by either the platform's rampage or Jaming's, and Meredith dug a flashlight out of her pack. Clicking it on, she tried the doorknob and found that he hadn't locked it. "I'm coming in, okay?"

Meredith waited a second more, received no response, and tentatively pushed the door open. She had some trouble here, because the overturned work bench was half in front of it, but she could see that at least he hadn't intentionally barricaded himself in. Her breath caught in her throat as her flashlight's dim illumination revealed what almost appeared to be the aftermath of a tornado.

The failed platform lay overturned across the bed in the corner, covering most of it. Tools, metal scraps, and tiny bits of broken glass littered the floor, and one of Jaming's shelves had been knocked clear off the wall and lay at the opposite end of the garage, completely split in half. She couldn't even _see_ Jaming, but the soft sound of a muffled sob gave away his location.

The heavy work table, which normally sat in the center of the room, was overturned in a similar manner that the bench had been. And, shining her flashlight directly at it, Meredith could just make out the familiar blue spikes of hair poking over the edge of the table. The shadow it cast on the far wall sort of resembled an artichoke. "There you are..."

The voice that answered her was low and miserable, hoarse from too much yelling. "Go away..."

"Are you hurt?"

She heard him draw in a hitching breath, and his voice rose a bit in pitch if not in volume. "I said go _away. _I don't want you to see me like this."

Meredith stood in a state of indecision, torn between honoring his wishes or going against them. She wasn't sure if he was physically okay or if he had injured himself, and she didn't quite trust his state of mind. After seeing him take such a crushing blow, she wanted to be sure it was actually _safe_ to leave him alone.

As she stood and considered, the sounds of his erratic breathing never ceased, and against her better judgment she carefully picked her way through the obstacle course of sharp objects and made her way over to him.

As the beam from Meredith's flashlight fell on Jaming he turned to avoid it. He sat huddled in a ball, hiding his face in his arms. His knuckles were swollen and bloody, and Meredith realized he must have vented his anger by punching something. _'What has he done to himself?' _

And as she got over her shock, she saw that he had clenched his hands into fists, having realized she was still there.

"Jaming...if I come closer...you're not going to hit me, are you?"

"How could you _think_ that?" he demanded, not raising his head.

"Because...frankly, you're scaring me." She used the side of her foot to sweep a space clean for kneeling, and settled down beside him.

"I'm sorry..." he mumbled, burrowing his face deeper into his arms, trembling in misery. "I screw everything up..."

"You don't screw everything up," she gently brushed back the blue spikes of his hair, almost afraid to touch him even after he indicated that he wouldn't lash out at her. "You don't..."

"I do _too!_" He could barely get the words out, and kept having to hold his breath as he tried to bring himself under control. "You and Pau could have been hurt. If it got out before the roof closed, the _town_ could have...I did it again. Damn it, I did it _again!_"

"Jaming..." She tried again, but he went on as if she hadn't spoken.

"Can't you see? No matter _what _I do, I'll...I'll never be a...I tried so _hard _to make things right, and I just _can't!_" Jaming was yelling again, but he hardly had the voice for it now. The meltdown was still in progress, and he was hyperventilating almost uncontrollably. "The one time I _do _get it right, and-and-and it's when I'm...when I'm working for _him!_ I'm a failure...a g-goddamn _failure!_"

Meredith said nothing and wrapped her arms around him, careful not to touch his hands, and gently pressed the side of his head against her shoulder.

And, far too miserable at this point to care about his dignity, he cried. _Hard._ Instead of pulling away from her embrace, he leaned into it and allowed himself to be comforted. He let her run her hand through his coarse, spiky hair. It felt nice.

It was a good long while before he quieted down again, and after a time Meredith noticed something. She thought she could smell something faint and coppery. It took her a moment to realize that what she smelled was blood, and she remembered how torn up his knuckles were. Jaming had made no attempt to sit back, and he seemed fully prepared to sit there indefinitely. He was still awake, she was sure of it, but he simply did not want to move.

"Jaming?" Meredith asked when his breathing had been normal for several minutes, not wanting to set him off again.

"Hm?"

"Your hands are bleeding. We need to take care of it."

Jaming finally sat back a little, and he realized that he had bled on _her!_ "Oh, I'm sorry..."

"Pff, this shirt was due for the rag bag anyway. Come on, up you get," Slipping a hand under his elbow, she helped him to his feet and asked, "Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Not anymore..."

Meredith spotted the dented, metal box lying pinned under the edge of the platform, and wondered disjointedly how in the world it had managed to end up like _that._ Then, deciding that it didn't matter, she shrugged. "Okay, no problem. I've got one back home. You think you can climb a ladder?"

"Yes, unless I want to spend the night in here..." Jaming said, then hurriedly clarified when he realized that it didn't sound quite right. "I mean, I'll have to climb my _own_ ladder, so climbing yours won't be...a problem." Jeez, no matter how he put it, it sounded wrong! Still, he hadn't been up in her house before, and if he hadn't been so emotionally wrung out, the thought of it would have made him extremely nervous. As it was, he simply felt tired and numb.

Jaming let her lead the way, and he kept his eyes firmly on the rungs in front of him instead of looking up. She wasn't wearing a skirt, but he didn't want to get distracted and slip.

Soon he stood inside a tree house very similar to his own, though furnished differently, and tried not to bleed on her floor. He liked what she had done with the place, though he didn't feel like he quite belonged in it. There was a bed, a table and two chairs, a small dresser, and a book shelf that practically groaned beneath the weight of Meredith's books. There was a small lamp on the dresser, which Meredith switched on, but the room was already dimly lit by the colored holiday lights she had strung up along the walls.

His own tree house dwelling was fairly plain. Since he spent most of his time in his garage anyway, at least before this latest disaster, he saw no reason to smarten up his home for company he would never have.

Lord, his hands hurt! _All_ of him hurt, really. He wasn't used to a lot of physical exercise, and he had given himself quite a workout. His muscles were already complaining, and he knew that they would practically be screaming at him in the morning.

There was an audible 'plop!', and a drop of scarlet fluid seemed to stare accusingly up at him from the floorboards. So much for not bleeding on her floor!

Meredith realized he was still standing, and she nodded to the table as she got some soap and water ready. "Go ahead and sit down. I'll just be a minute."

He hooked the toe of his boot on the leg of one of the chairs and pulled it back from the table a bit, and obediently sat down. He moved to rest his forehead in his hands, but saw that he had blood all over his palms. The wounds were only on the knuckles, so this surprised him a little. And it made his head feel a bit swimmy.

When Meredith came over with the medical supplies, she found him with his head resting on the table in the crook of his arm. He opened his eyes when she sat down, then closed them again. His blue skin had taken on an ashen sort of pallor, and she frowned. "Feeling sick?"

"No, just dizzy."

She took one of his hands, turning it so that she could inspect the palm and the wrist, and she nodded in private relief when she saw that the blood only had one source. However, when she got a really good look at his knuckles, she gasped softly. The skin over all four of his knuckles was scraped away, and there were even tiny pieces of glass and splinters of wood sticking out of the cuts. And the other one looked just as bad! "Ooh...that must hurt like a bitch."

Normally, he would chide her playfully over her use of language. It was sort of a running gag with them, one they both took part in, but he wasn't in a particularly joking mood and merely shrugged.

Opening the first aid kit, Meredith took out a pair of tweezers. She also took a napkin from the napkin holder on the table and laid it out between them. "I really don't want to hurt you, Jaming...but this _is _going to hurt."

"I know," he mumbled, still keeping his eyes closed.

Meredith bit her lip and got to work, carefully removing the glass and splinters from his torn skin and depositing them onto the napkin. It took longer than she thought it would, but he didn't react until it came time to clean the area with soap and water.

He grunted softly and flinched, then remained absolutely still, willing himself to _not_ react like that again. Hitting the wall had hurt and had resulted in him using language that would make a sailor blush, but this _stung!_

"Do you think they're broken?" she asked him, "Can you move them okay?"

Well, he_ had _climbed the ladder without a problem, hadn't he? Instead of pointing that out, though, Jaming flexed his hand a few times. "Not broken."

She nodded, and when she was satisfied that the wounds were clean she slathered them with ointment, covered them with a non-adhesive gauze pad, and used a length of bandage to wrap his hand. "There. One down...one to go."

Jaming groaned before he could stop himself, and slowly raised his head. He wasn't dizzy anymore, but he sure as hell felt guilty. He watched her get to work on his other hand, and shame engulfed him like a rising tide. That look of worry and sadness was on his behalf, and it was _his_ fault. Because he couldn't control himself, look at what she now had to do! It was things like this that made him love her, and made him hate himself. She shouldn't have to clean up after him all the time!

"I'm...such a burden to you..."

"That's funny...I thought something similar after you carried me out of the cave."

Jaming blinked a few times, then lowered his head. He had no tears left, but his eyes stung just the same. "That was different. What you did then was selfless. What _I _did was throw a tantrum like a three-year-old. You shouldn't have to do this. I'm sorry."

Meredith shook her head, and gave him a gentle but firm command. "_Stop._"

Jaming shut his mouth, and raised his startled eyes to meet hers.

She stared at him, her eyes still soft, but completely uncompromising. "You took care of me when I needed it. And you're going to let me take care of you. It's what we _do._ So get used to it, and stop beating yourself up. The walls, too, for that matter."

At this, Jaming finally cracked the tiniest of smiles and shook his head. Gods, he loved this woman.


	15. Chapter 15: Speculations

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ Jaming just tapped me on the shoulder and said, "You're not going to just _leave_ it like that, are you?" So, here you get to see Meredith's more logical side come into play. In the course of writing this, I realized something; if they were ever to get too much caffeine, they'd be bouncing off the walls._

"Chapter 15: Speculations"

Jaming had never been much of a tea drinker, but when Meredith offered him some chamomile, saying it always calmed her nerves, he accepted. He watched her for a bit as she prepared it, then looked down at his hands. He was a doctor of technology, not medicine, but even he could tell that she had done an almost professional job of it.

"Where did you learn how to do this?"

She gave him a funny look, and asked, "What, make tea?"

"N-no, I meant the bandages. It seems like you may have done it before."

"I have," Meredith's expression suggested that she might be hiding something. "I used to fall down a lot. You take sugar, right?"

"Two, please..." Jaming looked back down at his hands. He knew that he would probably find out eventually, when she was ready to discuss it, so he let the matter drop. "Would you like some help?"

"Nah, I've got it. All you do is boil the water and let it sit. Nothing to it."

When the tea was ready, Meredith brought it over and set one of the cups down in front of him. She knew he didn't like to be fussed over too much, but she had to say it anyway. "I'm really sorry, Jaming."

He reacted pretty much as she expected, by wincing a little and shaking his head. "Yes, well...It is what it is."

She touched his shoulder, and began again, "Jaming, I..."

But he turned in his seat and gently removed her hand from his shoulder. It wasn't a rejection; he held her hand between his for a moment. "Meredith...please. I know you mean well, but...there's really nothing _anyone_ can say. I...don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there, but...I'll be all right. Really."

Meredith seemed conflicted, as if what he was asking of her went against her very nature, but this was what he wanted and she needed to respect that. She nodded, sipped her tea, then leaned back in her chair a little, still holding her cup. She was trying to think of some way to change the subject, one that wouldn't seem out of place, when Jaming began to speak again.

"I just can't figure out _why._ I've eaten, slept, and _breathed _Aeroharmonics for so long that I barely even need to refer to my notes anymore. I succeeded once, so I _know_ I can do it again. It _should_ have worked." Jaming held his teacup between his hands, letting the warmth from the ceramic heat his hands through the bandages. He no longer appeared anguished so much as mildly frustrated, and the analytical side of his brain seemed to have kicked in. "What did I do differently that one time?"

Technology was _not _Meredith's forte. It always seemed to involve math, something she had never excelled at, but she could see a pattern there. Griffon seemed to be the single anomaly in this common thread of failures. From what little Jaming had told her, she knew that Griffon possessed great magical power, and as she thought about this she frowned.

"When you made the one that worked, where did you get the materials?"

"Hm?" Jaming blinked, unsure how this was relevant, but he answered her readily enough. "Some of it I found, and some of it I happened to already own. Much of it was provided by Griffon, though. Some soldier or other would bring the item I requested and leave it just outside of my old workshop. High quality stuff, too. But nothing that can't be found by anyone who bothers to look. Why?"

She almost seemed embarrassed to be offering suggestions about such matters, but she continued anyway. "I don't know, I just wondered if...Well, when you started up the platform earlier, it _started_ to work. Exactly how similar _are _magic and technology?"

Jaming did not want to think about his most recent failure, and he tried not to show that doing so put him in a sour humor. Besides, he was intrigued to know exactly where her train of thought was going. "In many ways, they're one and the same. Technology can replicate certain things that magic can accomplish, and vice versa. They can even be..."

He trailed off. His eyes widened a bit. But he wasn't sure if what he now suspected was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Were you going to say 'combined'?"

"Yes..."

"Well..." She shifted in her seat, turning to face him. "I wonder if some of those materials weren't...what's the word I'm looking for...I wonder if they weren't tampered with first, or treated somehow. I _saw_ that platform rise off the floor before...well, yes. It _worked._ But something is out of whack. You just haven't found it yet."

"Yes, yes, I know all of this," he sounded impatient, but he wasn't intentionally snapping at her. His thoughts were beginning to race, and he was having trouble keeping them in one place, so much so that his 'politeness filter' had shut down. And he wasn't being completely accurate; he had never before suspected magical tampering, but he didn't think to clarify. "But that doesn't change the present situation."

"Bear with me for a minute," Meredith held up a hand, looking almost as animated as Jaming himself did when he was on to something big. "Suppose those materials _were _tampered with, and suppose the purpose was to get rid of that instability?"

Now he frowned. He wasn't sure, but he felt like he had just been insulted. "Are you saying that without Griffon, there is no hope of success? That I'm incapable of-"

"No, no, no!" Meredith waved her hand as if fending off mosquitoes, irritated by his continued interruptions. "I'm saying that maybe whatever was used to level things out-"

"_If_ that's what happened."

Meredith was truly annoyed now, and she actually put her hand over his mouth. "Will you just _stop _that for a minute? I can't hear myself think!"

Jaming, wide eyes peering at her over the top of her hand, nodded like a little boy who had just been reprimanded by a teacher.

Satisfied, she removed her hand. "Where was I...Ah! If magic and technology can each do many of the things that the other can do, maybe the effects of whatever Griffon might have done using magic can be replicated by _you _using technology. You haven't found the problem _yet,_ but that doesn't mean that you won't. It exists, and you can find it. The platform _did _work...for a little bit. Maybe, instead of trying to do the same thing every time, hoping that _this _one will be 'the one', you should compare your latest attempt side-by-side to the one you left back at Shigura Village. I'm sure it's still there, though the sand crabs have probably made a home out of it by now..."

"_Meredith!_"

The sudden, explosive use of her name startled her badly, and at first she thought that she had gone way too far and angered him, but the next thing she knew he was holding her by the shoulders and wearing such a wide grin she wondered if he had taken leave of his senses. "Wh-what?"

"I think you might be on to something!"

"You...you do?" She blinked, more confused than ever.

"_Yes!_ I hadn't even considered that, but it fits." His hands moved from her shoulders to her cheeks as he laughed a bit giddily. "It _fits!_ Oh, I could _kiss _you! Or, well..."

She kissed _him _instead, and and stroked her hand down his cheek. She didn't want to get his hopes up too high, because if it didn't work the fall back to earth would be even worse than this last one had been. "There's no guarantee, though..."

"Of course not. There never is."

* * *

><p>Unseen and unheard by Jaming and Meredith, three ghostly figures hovered at the back of the room. Two of them, a male and a female, stood as a couple. The other, a male, stood nearby but a little apart from them.<p>

The female ghost slipped her hand into her husband's and offered up a rather smug grin. "Told you so. Sometimes he just can't see the forest for the trees. I _knew _she'd get to him somehow."

"All right, wife, you win _this _one." The male, who resembled Jaming strongly in body if not in facial features, rolled his eyes. Then he turned to the lone male ghost, and asked him, "What do _you _think?"

Watching Meredith with a look of paternal tenderness, the other replied, "I think our children are good for each other."

The ghost of Jaming's father nodded. "I concur. And I commend you on the daughter you raised. Bringing him out of his legendary funks is no easy task, but she reacted admirably."

The ghost of Jaming's mother nudged him. "Big words, dear."

"All right, then; she knows when to be kind, and when to give him a kick in the pants!"

The three laughed as they rose, unnoticed, through the tree house ceiling and disappeared into the ethers.


	16. Chapter 16: Juvenile High Jinks

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ My sincere apologies...I don't know where this came from. _

"Chapter 16: Juvenile High Jinks"

Yet another hot Veniccio day was drawing to a close, and Jaming stood fishing at the edge of one of the docks, trying desperately to keep a straight face. Behind him, Pau and Donny were laughing like a couple of eight-year-olds, and it was hard not to join in.

"That's _disgusting,_ Donny!" Claire made a face and moved off to stand with Julia instead.

"Aw, come on! It's _funny!_"

Jaming frowned as he removed an undersized Bon from his fishing line and tossed it back into the sea. "It isn't _that_ funny. _And _it's rude to do that in front of a lady."

Pau rolled his eyes. "Aw, don't be such a stick in the mud."

"Yeah," agreed Donny, "It ain't like _you_ never do it."

"You've never _heard_ me do it," Jaming retorted, joining in on the conversation in spite of his better judgment. "and there's a good reason for that. It's a natural bodily function, yes, but there are certain things I don't do in front of other people. Ladies in particular."

Donny nudged Pau and snickered. "No wonder he's always so uptight. He never farts!"

There was a chorus of roaring boy laughter, and Pau fell over and held his stomach as he kicked his feet in the air. Jaming's cheeks darkened as he drew himself up taller and proceeded to ignore them.

As luck would have it, though it was debatable whether this luck was good or bad, Meredith had just stepped off of one of the shop boats. She heard the laughter, and came over to investigate. "What's so funny?"

Jaming shut his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh as he shook his head. "This is the aftermath of a flatulence joke. And, fair warning; you would be wise to stand upwind from Donny."

Donny and Pau cracked up even harder, and Meredith rolled her eyes in a 'boys will be boys' manner. "Kids, huh?"

Pau sat up and stuck his tongue out at her.

Donny sat down cross-legged right where he was standing, and asked Pau in a voice that was louder than necessary, clearly teasing them. "You think when _those two _have kids, they'll teach 'em to be all boring like they are?"

Jaming's expression was pure shock, and he fumbled his fishing rod and nearly dropped it. He came very close to falling off the dock himself as he made a mad grab for it, and was only saved by Meredith grabbing the back of his waistcoat and yanking him away from the edge. He was trying to find his voice, but Meredith beat him to it.

"Quiet in the cheaper seats, you two."

"I wonder what they'll look like?" Pau joined in, unable to resist.

"That's rather premature," Jaming said coldly, reeling in his empty lure and casting out again. "And none of your business."

Meredith certainly didn't miss the days when her peers were so overt with their teasing, but she was long past the point where it bothered her. She noticed, though, that Jaming seemed to be _very _bothered by it. His blush almost looked like a bad sunburn, and he wasn't making eye contact.

"Seriously, you two," she told them firmly, "that's enough. Why don't you go down to the beach and help Granny Rosa get a fire going? The captain said he has more than enough Kaji on board for a fish fry."

"Eew..." Pau made a face, "I think I'll pass."

Donny, however, was excited. "All _right! _No more instant mac and cheese for _me!_"

He ran off, and Meredith frowned. _'Is that what he eats every night? Why _is_ he living here on his own, come to think of it?'_

Jaming watched Donny leave with a look of concern, and he whispered, "Did you know?"

"No..."

Pau, who had belatedly realized that he didn't like being told to be quiet, flattened his ears on his skull and smiled wickedly. Tip-toeing up behind Meredith, he stood there for a moment before giving the small of her back a very light push.

Meredith, who was standing right at the edge of the pier, flailed out her arms and tried to arch away from the danger. "Ack! No! _Aah!_"

Before Jaming could do anything about it, his girlfriend had plunged into the ocean. "Pau!"

But when Meredith broke the surface, she was laughing. "I'll _kill _you!" She was able to reach the dock from where she was, and she quickly hauled herself out of the water with arms that were very used to climbing at this point. "I'll _kill_ you, Pau!"

Of course, she didn't. Her version of 'kill' was to chase the cackling adolescent until she caught him, then to haul the shrieking and laughing boy bridal style back to the edge of the dock, where she charged forward at a run and jumped into the water again with him in her arms.

Jaming, who had been ready to angrily retaliate, found this _deliciously_ funny. All eyes in the immediate vicinity turned to locate the source of the unfamiliar, uproarious laughter. As Jaming doubled over and braced the hand that wasn't holding his fishing rod against his knee, the people of Veniccio learned that their introverted neighbor was, in fact, _very _capable of laughing.


	17. Chapter 17: Unexpected Problem

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ I hope I didn't make Jaming sound like a complete pervert in a certain part of this chapter! It's hard to write a guy's perspective sometimes, so I sort of have to make a guess at the things they happen to notice. And, going on the assumption that he's still a virgin at this point and has most likely suppressed certain urges, I figured that some things might catch him by surprise and cause him to 'lock up' a bit. XD Anyway, here ya go._

"Chapter 17: Unexpected Problem"

Jaming watched from a distance as a large bonfire slowly burned down to coals, unsure how he felt about how crowded the beach was becoming. Donny and Pau were there, and so were Granny Rosa, Julia, and Claire. There was also an old man with deeply tanned skin whom Jaming didn't recognize by sight, but who had introduced himself as 'Cap'. Jaming knew the name, though; Meredith's stall was on the old man's shop boat, along with a few others. There were several strangers, and Jaming felt the old social anxiety making itself known once more.

He wished Meredith was there. After her dip in the ocean (or double dip, if one counted her jumping back in with Pau), she had left, saying that she needed a shower. Without her presence in the middle of a rather large crowd, Jaming felt, in a word, uncomfortable.

Where had all of these people come from? As Cap passed by, Jaming got his attention and asked him.

Cap, who resembled a stereotypical sea captain, pipe and all, made a wide gesture with said pipe. "A train filled with tourists came in today. They're bunking on one of the shop boats temporarily. Not mine, though. I thought a bonfire on the beach would be the perfect welcome. What's wrong with you, lad? You're lookin' a bit peaky."

Jaming straightened his waistcoat by giving the bottom of it a sharp tug, and he tilted his chin a bit higher. "I haven't the faintest idea what you mean, sir."

The old man merely laughed and commented, "Not a crowd person, are ya?"

"You could say that..." Where was Meredith?

"Ahh, don't let it get you fussed. They're just passin' through. In the meantime, why don't you go enjoy yourself, instead of standin' back here like a statue? Have some fish; there's plenty."

Jaming frowned as Cap walked away, knowing that he was right, and hating it. He surveyed the crowd for any familiar faces, and he saw none. He did, however, see a woman who reminded him of someone, one who was in late middle age, but he couldn't place her. And he didn't get much time to consider this before he felt a tap on his left shoulder. He automatically looked to see who it was, but there was no one there!

Then, on his right side, Meredith's triumphant voice crowed, "Gotcha!"

Jaming turned his head quickly to face her, then rolled his eyes. "Yes, very clever. You certainly took your time..." But, looking at the transformation that had taken place, he had to stare. She had left the beach looking bedraggled, but still lovely in his opinion. Now she stood barefoot before him in pair of teal capri pants and a light blue tie dye tank top. One that showed a bit of midriff, he noticed, as his eyes briefly lingered on her exposed navel. He even had a tantalizing glimpse of...

Abruptly he tore his gaze away from her cleavage, clearing his throat and willing a certain portion of his anatomy to behave itself and stay down. _'What is wrong with you, Jaming! Be a gentleman!'_

She was dressed in a perfectly acceptable manner, and some of the young ladies present were wearing swimsuits that showed a whole lot more, if he'd actually cared to look.

Well, maybe he _had _looked, but he didn't know those girls. And they couldn't have competed with his Meredith if they tried!

"Everything okay?" she asked him, completely oblivious to his internal struggle.

"Everything's...fine. You look wonderful."

Slipping her hand into his, she motioned with her head for him to walk over to the fire with her. "So do you."

At this, he scoffed and actually looked a bit sad. "You're kind, but you don't need to lie. And I haven't even changed my attire."

"I'm not lying," she protested, giving his hand a light squeeze. "You always look good to me."

He didn't see how she could possibly be telling the truth, but he found himself rubbing the back of his head and blushing. And, just when he began to forget that the tourists were even there, one of them got to her feet and approached them.

"Meredith! There you are!"

Meredith stopped short, her eyes as round as dinner plates as she stared in disbelief at the approaching figure. "Mother! Wh-what..."

_Mother?_ Jaming now knew who this woman reminded him of! Simultaneously, he and Meredith let go of each other's hands, and he watched as the older woman embraced her.

Meredith's arms automatically went around her mother, who was a few inches shorter than she was, and the brief look she sent Jaming was one that pleaded him for help. "I...wasn't expecting you!" She said, still getting over the surprise, but she didn't seem unhappy about her mother's visit.

"Oh, I know, but I was curious to see this place you told me about. Aren't you going to introduce us?" The woman turned to smile at Jaming.

He could see that her expression was slightly guarded and more than a little surprised, and he could understand why. He had just been seen holding hands with her daughter, and she probably hadn't even been _told_ about him!

"Yeah, of course. Um...Mother, this is Jaming...my boyfriend. Jaming, this is my mother, Sarah."

Jaming bowed slightly at the waist, but he didn't hold out his hand for her to shake. It had been his experience that most people didn't want to touch him, thinking that the blue hue of his skin indicated some sort of contagious disease. And, small though she was in comparison to him, he was terrified of her. If she disapproved of him, that could be that! "A pleasure, ma'am."

But Sarah surprised him very much by reaching out and shaking _his _hand, showing no immediate signs of dislike as she smiled back. "Likewise, but you may call me Sarah. Meredith told me a bit about you."

"Oh, all good, I hope!" he chuckled nervously, relaxing a bit.

"Of course," Sarah broke the handshake and turned to Meredith. "There's something I need to discuss with you. In private."

Immediately serious, Meredith asked, "Is everything okay?"

Sarah waved her hand. "Yes, yes, everything's fine. I just need to talk to you."

Jaming kept his expression carefully neutral, but an awful sense of foreboding was brewing in his gut. He saw Meredith looking between him and her mother, and he realized that she was torn between wanting to stay with him and not wanting to be rude to her mother, who had made the long journey specifically to see her. And, realizing that the correct response to this situation was a no-brainer, he slapped a smile onto his face and said, "Go on, I'm not going anywhere. I think I'll go sample some of that Kaji."

"Okay," Meredith seemed relieved, but guilty at the same time. "I'll join you in a bit, okay?"

Jaming nodded, watched the two of them walk just beyond the limits of the ring of light cast by the bonfire, then helped himself to a plate of pan fried Kaji. It was fresh out of the pan, and the first bite burned the roof of his mouth. If he hadn't been so distracted by what he was witnessing, he would have had the presence of mind to let it cool for a minute.

Two silhouettes stood just close enough for him to see, and he saw the slightly taller of them, Meredith, vehemently shake her head. He wished he could hear the conversation! This wasn't for him to intrude upon, and he was doing enough of that by watching their exchange without being able to hear it, but he couldn't help himself. Something was wrong.

Then Jaming and several others heard Sarah raise her voice loudly enough to be heard. "No, that is _not _what I said!"

Jaming picked at his dinner with his fork, separating the Kaji fillet into flakes as his expression darkened. What had this woman said to upset Meredith?

There was some more unheard discussion, and then Meredith's voice reached their ears. "I will. Not. _Do_ it!"

"Ooh..." Donny hunched down a bit, focusing studiously on his dinner. "_Someone's_ mad..."

"-stubborn as your father!"

"This conversation is over!"

"Yes, I guess it is! Goodnight, Meredith."

Jaming gasped as Sarah stalked off towards the docks, then his eyes focused on Meredith's shadow once more. Or, rather, where her shadow had just been. _'She's gone...Where did she go?'_

Jaming set down his plate and got up, dusted sand off the seat of his pants, and went looking for Meredith. And, after stumbling over a few pieces of drift wood and nearly twisting his ankle in the unstable sand dunes, he found her. She was standing with her back to the campfire, which was still in sight, and she had one hand braced against a palm tree as if she were using it to ground herself.

He could see that her head was lowered, and her shoulders were shaking silently. She was crying, and he felt his heart give an answering twist. _'What did that blasted woman say to her?'_

"Meredith..." he called quietly so that she wouldn't be startled. He knew she heard him, because she straightened up once more and quickly wiped at her face, but she didn't answer. He realized that she probably couldn't, and he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What happened?"

Meredith turned to face him and she let him put his arms around her. She buried her face in his shoulder and slipped her arms under his, snuggling close and holding on for dear life. "I'm sorry..."

Jaming shook his head. "No, Meredith...You've done nothing wrong..."

"Yeah, tell _her _that..." She began to sob quietly, unaware that each sharply-drawn breath sliced straight to his heart.

_'Don't tempt me, because I just may.'_ Jaming thought, but didn't say. She needed him to be the one with a clear head, and he couldn't do that if he let himself get too angry. He tried not to notice that her clean hair smelled faintly floral, though he couldn't quite place the scent. Now was not the time to be noticing such things. "You _haven't,_ though. Just...tell me what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it..."

Jaming sighed, trying not to let his frustration show. How could he fix this if she wouldn't even tell him what 'this' was? She did seem to be calming down, though, and he hazarded a guess. "I take it she doesn't approve of us..."

"No, that's not it..." Meredith stepped back, and accepted the handkerchief he offered her. "At least, I don't _think_ that's it. She never mentioned it."

So, it wasn't about _him,_ then. Jaming felt pretty silly for having assumed so, but he wished he had an idea of what else it could have been! "Meredith...I'm at a loss. I want to help you..."

Meredith looked up, locking eyes with him for a long moment, then looked away again. "She wants me to go back home with her. Back to Palm Brinks."

Jaming's heart felt like it took a nosedive into his shoes, and he did his best to keep his voice neutral. "And...is there a part of you that wants to do as she asks?"

She grimaced a bit, shaking her head. "There's a part of me that doesn't want to upset my mother. A big part. But I don't want to leave _you,_ and I don't want to...no, I _can't_ go back there."

Jaming could tell that she had a lot more to say, but he knew her well enough to know that this setting was far too public. He held out his hand for her to take. "Walk with me?"

Without hesitation, she took his hand and they both left the light of the bonfire and headed further inland.


	18. Chapter 18: Discussions and Awkwardness

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ Heavy topics and mushy stuff dead ahead! Also, some racy subject matter. I'm a little nervous to be posting this chapter, but I thought it would be interesting to explore how two inexperienced characters might approach this subject. This is as close as I'll ever cut it with this sort of thing. Hopefully I still kept it at a T rating. Sorry, no bedroom scene for you! Still, younger readers should probably skip this (not that you will, you little pervs). Seriously, though, I hope I didn't go overboard. :/_

"Chapter 18: Discussions and Awkwardness"

Most of the mess in Jaming's garage had been cleaned up, and the location was relatively private while still being socially appropriate, so this was where he brought her. "Would you like something to drink? I have ginger ale, bottled water, grape juice..." She shook her head, and he got himself a ginger ale before crossing the room to sit with her on the work bench.

He opened his soda, took a sip, and he waited for her to say something. Finally, when it seemed like she was content stay silent, he gently prompted her. "What did she say that upset you so?"

Meredith looked away, then got up and paced aimlessly. He had never seen her like this before! Agitated, emotional, unable to sit still for long. Was this how _he_ was the few times she had seen him lose it? How had _she_ dealt with it?

Patience. He needed to be patient. But he had never been the type to just sit and wait! _She_ was the patient one. _He_ needed to _fix_ things! And he couldn't fix this.

Finally, Meredith leaned against the work table. "It wasn't the fight. That's nothing new. It was her telling me I'm as stubborn as my father. He hasn't even been gone a _year _yet, and she used him to get at me."

Jaming's mouth sagged open almost in disbelief. He hadn't caught that before, but he remembered Sarah shouting at her daughter, and that was the first thing he was actually able to hear from where he was sitting. "I'm sorry."

Meredith shook her head and looked down, her arms folded almost as if she were hugging herself. "I guess it's a stupid thing to get upset about..."

"You forget who you're talking to," he set down his ginger ale and walked over to her, leaning against the table with her. "It is _not_ a stupid thing to get upset about. He was your father; you loved him. Just as I loved my own parents. Grief has no time limit. Even when it's no longer new, there will still be some things that are hard for you to face. Trust me, I know."

She reached over and squeezed his hand, and they stood in silence for a while. The only sound to be heard was the soft fizzing noise from an open can of ginger ale.

"My father's death was actually my reason for leaving Palm Brinks," she told him after several minutes had passed. "Not right away, you understand...but everything I saw reminded me of him. And I just couldn't take living there anymore. I couldn't move on. When the Blackstone Railroad opened up again, I missed the first train. But eventually I boarded it and ended up here. And I _loved _it here! It was so different. I still had the memories, but it didn't hurt as much to visit them."

Jaming nodded mutely, understanding exactly where she was coming from. As he thought about that comment again, he became convinced that Meredith's mother didn't know how hurtful it was, and he suspected that several barbs were thrown from both sides. He still sided firmly with Meredith, but he was sorry that this had happened at all. Sarah was surely grieving, too. He knew better than to point that out just now, though.

"Listen, I don't want you to think that my mother's an evil shrew, or that we hate each other," Meredith added.

Jaming was taken aback by this, and he quickly shook his head. "Oh! No, I don't think that."

"But growing up, she was..." Meredith squinted a bit as she searched for the words, and finally she shook her head. "I think the word I'm looking for is 'overprotective'. I was bullied a lot when I was younger, and she just kept hovering long after it stopped. Always telling me what I should and shouldn't do, long after I turned eighteen, and getting all huffy when I didn't do what she told me. I don't know how much of it was protectiveness, how much of it was habit, or how much of it was about _control._ I've just had it up to my _eyeballs_ with the emotional blackmail, y'know?"

Jaming nodded slowly. He believed he understood the situation well enough. "Perhaps your needs clash with hers. She might be afraid of losing _you_ as well..."

He immediately regretted his choice of words when he saw her eyes well up with tears again, and he drew her into a hug. "Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you're probably right. I know she misses him. And I know she wants me to be _there_, but I just _can't!_" she sobbed, breaking down completely for the second time that evening. "I'm sorry...I must sound like such a spoiled brat! But I don't know what the right thing to do _is!_"

_'Self-recriminations. Where have I heard _that_ before?'_ Jaming thought sarcastically, strongly reminded of conversations they had previously had where he was the one who was wallowing in self-loathing. "No, Meredith. You sound like an adult who is frustrated with being treated like a child, and who needs to grieve for her father in her _own_ way, not her mother's way. You're...what, twenty-five?"

Laughing tearfully, Meredith shook her head, the side of her face still pressed against his chest. "_You're _generous...I'm thirty."

_'A year younger than I.'_ He thought.

"Then, no _wonder _you're frustrated! Meredith, you have the right to live _where _you please and _how_ you please. Your mother can't make these decisions for you, and she needs to understand that."

"And if she can't?"

He sighed. "I don't mean to sound like I'm being cold about this, but that's _her_ problem. She uses guilt because it _works._ And when it stops working, maybe she'll realize that her 'requests' are unreasonable for any adult to make of another. And you have nothing to be guilty about! You figured out what you wanted, and you went out and made it happen."

Meredith sniffled, used Jaming's handkerchief once more, and she seemed to have calmed down again. She looked up again with a shadow of her usual impish smirk. "You sure you're not a doctor of psychology?"

He raised an eyebrow and hoped that what he said next would make her laugh. "Hm. That _would _explain why most of my inventions tend to go haywire..."

As he hoped, she gave a small laugh. Then, pocketing the handkerchief for later laundering, she kissed the corner of his mouth. "Thank you, Jaming. Do you know how wonderful you are?"

"Yes," he deadpanned, and once again, he was rewarded by the music of her laughter. He smiled and shook his head. "Not really, no. But I'm glad _you_ think so."

"I do."

It was her serious tone of voice that wiped the smile from his face, and all at once his heart was hammering in his chest.

_'She's standing awfully close. She's breathing faster than usual. Her pupils are dilated. She can't be thinking about _that_, can she? We're alone. I can see right down the front of her shirt. No you don't; stay down! It's neither the time nor the place for that! If I did anything right now, wouldn't that be considered taking advantage of her? I wish I knew what all of the unspoken rules _were! _I _want_ it to happen, but maybe not like _this! _Gods, she smells good. She's leaning in closer...Oh, help!'_

"Um...Meredith, I..." Hating the tremble he heard in his voice, he tried to swallow, but his mouth was devoid of saliva and the sides of his throat felt like they were sticking together.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, seeming confused.

Jaming grabbed a book from the work table and walked over to his bench, opening the book and placing it strategically on his lap when he sat down. He quickly picked up his forgotten can of ginger ale, and he lifted it to his mouth with a hand that shook. "No...Just a little thirsty. There's more in the refrigerator, if you want some."

Meredith took in his nervous demeanor, saw that he was 'reading' the book upside-down, saw _where_ he was holding the book, and she realized what had happened. "Thanks, I _am_ a bit thirsty, now that you mention it."

She made a beeline for the fridge, keeping her back to Jaming while she selected and opened her beverage. She hadn't meant for things to take a turn like that! Now the poor guy was sitting there with a raging hard-on, _she_ knew it, he _knew _that she knew it, and they were both acting like it hadn't happened.

But why was he so embarrassed? They were both adults. They were both _interested._ The timing might be a little bit off, but then again, it might be perfect. The loved each other, and they were of age. Meredith thought it was a bit strange that _he_ was the frightened one here! Wasn't it usually the other way around?

"Is there something wrong with me?" she asked in an almost off-hand manner.

Jaming raised his head and stared at her, and Meredith realized that he really _was_ scared! Wordlessly, he shook his head to indicate the negative.

She walked over and sat down beside him, though she left a good foot of space in between them. "Good to know."

"I can explain..."

"Just...hear me out first, okay?"

He nodded almost imperceptibly, and seemed to be dreading what she had to say.

Meredith took a sip of water from her bottle, put the lid back on, and turned to face him. "We don't have to do anything. If you're not ready, then you're not ready. I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's not your fault. Part of it is the timing. And a lot of it is...well, most men seem to have these experiences at an earlier age. I mean...mph..." Now he was rubbing his face.

Meredith smiled softly, though it was probably a good thing he didn't see it. "It's okay. It's all new to me, too."

"It's like...Well, it's almost like working from a blueprint I only got to glance at for a second. I...ehhh...I know what goes where, but...putting it into practice is a little bit different. I can't believe I just told you that..."

"You can tell me anything," she replied, "I promise, I'll never laugh at you. Well, not unless we're playing around, which is a bit different. And I won't tell anyone, either."

"And if you don't...er...like it?" His face was nearly purple.

"I think there's time to learn all that, don't you?"

He swallowed hard, picked up his ginger ale again, and he finished it in one go before shyly sliding a few inches towards her on the bench. "Do you think...maybe...there's time tonight?"

So, he _was _still interested.

Meredith licked her lips and leaned over, placing a kiss on his jawline that caused him to shiver. Then she whispered so closely to the blue shell of his ear that her breath tickled him, "My place or yours?"

_Desperation!_ "Whichever is the closest."


	19. Chapter 19: An Understanding

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ I had an idea for how the character of Meredith's mother would be portrayed, but I think the character had other ideas. She's more sneaky than I wanted her to be, but I think it will work out for future chapters. I promise, she's not a bad person!_

"Chapter 19: An Understanding"

The next morning, Jaming sat on a high stool at his work table with one foot propped up on a chair rung as he made repairs to Julia's vacuum cleaner. Just an hour earlier, he and Meredith had been chatting over breakfast in his tree house. Just eight hours before that, give or take a few minutes, he had shared his bed with a woman for the very first time and had found the experience to be _quite_ enjoyable.

He was just thinking to himself that nothing would be able to spoil his day when there was an uncertain knock at his garage door. _'Maybe Pau is finally getting the idea.'_

"Come in," he called, not looking up from his work.

But it wasn't Pau. Jaming heard the soft 'click-clack' of a lady's flat-soled shoes, and the gait sounded hesitant. He looked over to see who this stranger was, and his relaxed expression hardened. It was Sarah.

"Good morning. Jaming, isn't it?"

He bobbed his head once and turned his attention back to the vacuum. "Ma'am."

_'She can't sense what happened last night, can she? Whatever you do, Jaming, you keep a straight face! No fidgeting, no blushing, no guilty behavior!'_

"I think I remember asking you to call me 'Sarah'."

The woman's voice was friendly, almost amused, but Jaming was having none of it. "So you did, ma'am."

"I came to apologize to you. I'm sure you witnessed my argument with Meredith last night."

"Indeed," Jaming wedged a screwdriver behind the vacuum's brush attachment and began to pry at something. "However, _I _do not require an apology."

Sarah closed the garage door and walked over, indicating the other stool. "May I sit down?"

"Certainly," he said without tone or inflection, and added, "If you are thirsty, you may also help yourself to something from the refrigerator."

"No, thank you," Sarah sat down and took in his body language and facial expression. "You don't like me very much, do you?"

Jaming finally pried a mangled barrette out of the vacuum, then looked mistrustfully at Sarah. "Your daughter was in tears last night. Did you know that?"

The older woman shook her head, clearly very surprised by this. "No, I had no idea. Did she say why?"

Jaming held the vacuum hose in front of his face and peered into its depths, then put it down again. It seemed that there was nothing else wrong with the vacuum, and he was reluctant to accept Julia's payment of dried papaya. Still, he pretended to be very busy with his task to avoid having to make eye contact with Meredith's mother. "I believe it was the mention of her father. She...seems to feel his loss very deeply."

After a long silence, Sarah shook her head and said almost to herself, "I didn't even think. No wonder she won't speak to me." She looked over at Jaming, who was checking various parts of the vacuum, and asked, "I suppose she also told you what we were fighting about?"

"She did," he pushed the vacuum away and toyed idly with his screwdriver. "I fail to see the point of your discussing this with _me, _though. I won't try to talk her out of staying here, if that is what you want from me. Nor will I influence her to do so. The decision must be hers alone. Do you see what I'm driving at?"

Now Sarah gave him a rather peculiar look. She could tell that Jaming very much wanted Meredith to stay in Veniccio with him, so it surprised her to hear him say that. "You _care_ for her, don't you?"

The first hint of a smile began to show on Jaming's face, but he suppressed it. He didn't trust this woman, and he hadn't quite sussed out her motives yet. However, he knew that being rude to his girlfriend's mother would be a _very _bad idea, so he fully intended to play nice. "Very much."

"Then...don't you want what's _best _for her?"

Ah, so there it was. Jaming put down the screwdriver and turned to face her, draping his forearm over the edge of the table. Manipulation had worked on Meredith until this past year, as he had learned the night before, but Jaming could not be reached in this way. That ship had sailed when Gaspard piloted it away from Shigura Village, and Jaming himself had been forced to reevaluate his life. "I am going to tell you something, and I want to make myself perfectly clear."

Sarah leaned back a bit and raised her eyebrows, clearly scrutinizing his every word and move. "Yes?"

"Ma'am, I love your daughter. And, whether or not I deserve it, she loves me. I tell you now, if she truly wanted to leave Veniccio and go to Palm Brinks, or Sindain, or wherever, I would go with her without question. I am not holding her back, and I am not interested in getting in the middle of this. But please do _not _imply that I don't want what's best for her." As he finished, he tried to hide how intimidated he was by her.

"You truly think that you can take care of her?" Sarah asked, her expression giving away nothing at all.

"We take care of each other," he replied, refusing to quail under her eagle eye. "It's what we do."

And, finally, Sarah smiled a genuine smile and nodded as if he had passed some sort of test. "My daughter chose well. It seems we've gotten off on the wrong foot, Jaming. I hope we can still be on friendly terms."

"That is possible," Jaming acknowledged, and when Sarah said goodbye and left, he was troubled by something. As he mulled over the conversation he had just had, he thought to himself, _'Now, _there _goes a woman who knows how to get what she wants, and who will use almost any means to get it. She might be well-meaning, but I think I know why it took Meredith so long to break away from her. Such a formidable will is difficult to face...'_


	20. Chapter 20: Familiar Faces

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ Max and Monica revisit Veniccio in their quest for the Water Gem. Jaming is understandably flustered by their presence. Thanks, WanderingSoulofTime, for the idea!_

"Chapter 20: Familiar Faces"

As limited as the newspaper's reach was, it was difficult to know what was going on outside of Veniccio, but information had a way of trickling in by word of mouth. Some of the people who were staying aboard the shop boats weren't tourists, but refugees who had followed the train tracks there. When Jaming heard one of them mention the town of Heim Rada, his blood ran cold.

Heim Rada! According to Gaspard, that was to be their next target. As Jaming eavesdropped on the conversation, he began to feel quite ill. His hand settled over his stomach and he walked over to the ship's railing. People driven out. Embers raining from the sky. The town destroyed. People killed. Not only that, but what he was hearing was old news. This had happened a few months ago!

He had been visiting Meredith at her stall on the shop boat, so she noticed his change in demeanor right away. Something was very wrong! Before she could ask him what, though, he leaned over the rail and gave up his breakfast to the ocean. She waited until she thought he was through before taking a water bottle out of her cooler, and she opened it before offering it to him. "You okay?"

Jaming sheepishly accepted the water bottle. He rinsed, spat, then took a small sip before answering her. "Yes...N-no."

"What's wrong?" She rubbed his back, her concern turning into mild alarm. "Are you seasick?"

"Please, the water isn't even moving..." he muttered, sipping from his water bottle again.

"Then..."

Jaming shook his head, resting his arms on the railing and looking straight ahead at the horizon. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper; he didn't want to be overheard. "The town of Heim Rada was destroyed a few months ago."

Meredith wasn't familiar with the name of the town, but it didn't take much effort to figure out why he found this so upsetting. "Was Heim Rada one of the places..."

Jaming shut his eyes and nodded, his face still pale and drawn. "It was our next target." He had hoped that Max and Monica would get there in time to stop Gaspard from succeeding there, but he should have known that it was a vain hope.

Meredith gave his back a rub, trying to console him. "You weren't on that ship, Jaming."

"No, but who do you think invented it?" He put his forehead in his hand, suddenly feeling very tired indeed. "More blood on my hands. I...I don't feel well. I think I better go home."

"Do you want me to go with you?" she was still lightly rubbing his back, wishing she could take this burden from him.

"No, I'll be fine. I just..." And as he turned his head to look at the docks, he nearly dropped his water bottle into the ocean. He almost stepped on Meredith's foot as he backed up. "Impossible..."

"What? What is it?" She followed his line of sight, and saw a boy and a girl making their way into town. The girl had an extremely long, red ponytail. The boy appeared to be a few years younger, and Meredith recognized him. "Oh my gosh, that's Max!"

Jaming looked back at her. "You know him?"

"We're both from Palm Brinks. I didn't know him very well, but I saw him around town. Nice kid. I don't know the girl, though."

"No..." Jaming shook his head, sitting down on one of the deck chairs. "You _wouldn't _know her. That's Monica Raybrandt...and she's from one hundred years in the future. You remember I told you about time travel, don't you?"

"Of course I remember," she sat down beside him. "But why do you think they're here?"

"Who knows?" he shrugged, his eyes downcast and his mind far away.

Meredith looked up again to see where the two were going, and she sat up straighter. "We might find out in a minute. They're coming this way."

"What?" Jaming's head shot up, and he saw that this was true. Max and Monica were boarding the ship. Swallowing the sour taste in his mouth, Jaming stood up and turned his back on them, staring out over the ocean and trying to calm his racing heart.

Meredith got to her feet and stood in front of Jaming to block him from view, but his hair was always a dead give-away. Max and Monica came to an abrupt halt as soon as they saw it, but Meredith was perplexed when she saw their faces light up in happy recognition. Something wasn't right here...

"Hi, can I interest either of you in a puka shell necklace?" inquired Meredith, stepping easily in character and playing the part of a marketplace trader. "They're supposed to bring you good luck."

"No thanks, Meredith," Max waved a hand, recognizing her from Palm Brinks. "I was hoping to talk to-"

"Actually, I'd be interested in seeing some," Monica interrupted him, "We could use a bit of luck today."

Jaming turned his head to look at them, his curiosity taking over in spite of the possible danger these two posed. Not physical danger, most likely, but they could easily make it known to everyone in Veniccio that he didn't exactly have the cleanest track record!

Why exactly would those two kids need luck?

"Dr. Jaming!" Max snapped his fingers. "I _thought_ that was you."

Jaming's expression wasn't exactly friendly, but it wasn't hostile either. More than anything, he appeared confused. "I don't recall giving you my name."

"Oh, you didn't. Monica heard Gaspard call you that. _And _we met your...oof." Max flinched as Monica jabbed him lightly in the ribs.

"We met someone in the future who knew about you," Monica smoothly interjected while Max rubbed his side and wore an embarrassed smile.

"Indeed..." Jaming looked thoughtfully at Meredith, wondering if this 'someone' Monica referred to could possibly be a descendant of his. It seemed reasonable. Why else would Monica stop Max from revealing too much, unless Jaming finding out too much might change the future in a negative way? He decided that he didn't want to press the matter, and he relaxed a bit as a slight smirk crossed his features. "Then I take it you two haven't come looking for a rematch?"

And, to his astonishment, the two teenagers gave an easy laugh and shook their heads. Monica was perusing the shell jewelry, and Max seemed quite happy to stand there and shoot the breeze with him as if they hadn't once battled on a beach. "Nah, we're here on other business today. Maybe next time."

Jaming actually laughed at that, then turned solemn once more. "I want to ask you about Heim Rada. Were you able to..."

Max saw that he had trouble approaching the subject, so he finished for him. "Restore its origin point?"

"Yes..."

Monica handed a few Gilda over to Meredith and slipped her new necklace over her head as she turned to Jaming. "Yes, we took care of it. But Gaspard...well..."

Jaming felt dread grip his heart then, sensing what was coming. He and Gaspard had not been _friends,_ but he knew a little bit about how Gaspard had ended up working for Emperor Griffon, and he had identified with him on several things. "Dead?"

Monica nodded, and Jaming could have sworn that she actually seemed to feel grief for her former enemy. "I'm afraid so."

Meredith saw Jaming lower his eyes, and she held herself back reaching out to him. "It seems like you two are getting ready for something big..."

Max and Monica exchanged a look, and some kind of message seemed to pass between them. In that moment, Jaming understood that he and Meredith would never learn exactly what that 'something' was. And, he thought, maybe it was for the best. He had been given enough glimpses of a corrupt future to last him a lifetime, and the last thing he wanted was to learn something that might jeopardize things.

"Good luck with your inventing," Max finally told Jaming, holding out his hand.

Jaming looked at Max's hand for a moment, humbled by the boy's forgiveness, then smiled and shook hands with him. "Thank you. And...take care. You too, you little loudmouth!"

Meredith looked shocked at first, but Monica and Jaming chuckled as if sharing an inside joke. How could she possibly know that Jaming had called Monica that right before their big fight?


	21. Chapter 21: Take Cover!

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 21: Take Cover!"

Jaming kept a low profile while Max and Monica took care of whatever secret business they had in Veniccio, but he also kept tabs on their movements, and he found it worrying that they kept going in and out of Ocean's Roar Cave. Each time they came out, they seemed tired and a little worse for wear, but the next day they would head right back in again as if they were searching for something essential.

_'How is it that the fate of the world rests on the shoulders of these two children?'_ It certainly went against everything that Jaming had thought he knew!

Also, they freely did what he had practically begged Meredith _not_ to do, and he could see by the way that she sometimes looked at him when Max and Monica went back in that she wanted to know why. He hoped that she wouldn't ask him, and he was relieved when she didn't. It would have been a fair question, but his answer would have been complicated, and possibly a tad hypocritical.

On the fourth day, the sky darkened with thick storm clouds mere moments after Max and Monica entered the cave. The wind picked up, causing the younger palm trees to bend almost double and, in some cases, to fall over. The ocean, normally so calm and placid, turned angry. The tide quickly rose, almost level with the bottoms of the docks within half an hour of the storm's onset, and the breakers tore greedy chunks of sand from the beach and dragged them out to sea.

Jaming hurried for the shop boat to retrieve Meredith, but she met him half-way, leading her mother by the arm. The older woman seemed to be having some trouble, and Jaming realized that she must have twisted her ankle as the ships pitched and bobbed like floating corks.

Behind the two women, Cap was bellowing for everyone to get off the ships and hurry inland. "No, leave it all behind! That stuff's all replaceable! Lives aren't! Get a move on! Go!"

Jaming met Meredith's eyes long enough to glean from her expression that things had gotten very serious very quickly, and he hurried to walk at Sarah's other side to help her keep her balance. He called out to Cap, having to almost raise his voice to a roar to be heard over the ever-increasing winds. "What sort of storm is _this_, Captain?"

"Don't know, lad! A damn strange one, if ya ask me! I don't think these metal sheds you kooks are living in are gonna cut it, either! Who's bright idea was it to build a town right over the water, anyway? Right pack of idjits, that's who!" Cap then stuck his pipe between his teeth and continued to shout orders to the increasingly frightened townsfolk. "Get a move on! We go high and dry!"

"Right," Jaming muttered, "Scream at them. _That_ will calm them down..."

Meredith sputtered as her hair was blown into her mouth, when she moved it out of the way she actually had a tiny welt forming on her cheek from where the end of a lock of hair had lashed it. This was some wind! "I'm not sure if getting under all those palm trees is a good idea, either. And I'm definitely not going near the tree houses!"

"Surely not!" Jaming agreed wholeheartedly. Then something occurred to him. "Meredith, take your mother to my garage and shut the door, but don't lock it. I need to tell the Captain something. Sarah, do you think you can make it that far? I can carry you, if you can't."

"We'll manage, young man."

He nodded, then doubled back to get Cap's attention. "Have them go to my garage!"

"What's that, now?" Cap put a hand behind his ear and squinted.

Jaming's throat felt the strain as he yelled even louder, "_My garage! _It will be a tight squeeze, but it's large enough to hold everyone, and I built it to withstand tropical storms! We should be safe there!"

Cap's face lit up and he clapped Jaming so roughly on the arm that he caused the younger man to wince. "All right, everyone, you heard the man!"

Jaming and Cap directed the frightened assortment of humans inland, and as soon as they saw shelter in the distance, the prospect of safety spurred them on.

All was not well, however. Jaming noticed that Max and Monica were nowhere to be seen, and he realized that they were still deep in the Ocean's Roar Cave. Deep enough, he hoped, to escape this foul weather, but there was something else. He had done a head count, assigning names to the faces that he recognized, and when the last group cleared the docks he realized that he had not seen hide nor hair of Pau.

The weather was getting worse; an icy rain had begun to pour from the clouds, drenching Jaming and causing the spikes of his hair to wilt. Logic told him that if he didn't run for shelter immediately, he probably wouldn't make it at all. Pau was most likely lost already; either that, or he had made it to the garage before anyone else.

But if this wasn't the case...

Meredith would never forgive him if he didn't at least _try _to find Pau. He would never forgive himself, either.

Jaming looked off in the direction of Pau's home, and the next minute he was off at a sprint. The water had risen considerably, and Pau's house, a little cave right on the beach, was being flooded at that very moment. The water level wasn't dangerous for an adult human, but Pau was neither adult nor human.

Until he was nearly through the cave's entrance, Jaming wasn't sure if Pau was even inside. As he half-waded, half-swam, he heard something that sounded like it had been going on for several minutes.

Coughing. Panting. "I can't _swim!_ Is anybody _there?_"

"I'm here!" Jaming yelled back, unable to see anything in the darkness of the cave. The rising seawater must have put out Pau's campfire. "Keep yelling so that I can find you!"

"Jaming! I'm over here! I'm-" Pau broke off into a violent coughing fit as sea water gushed into his mouth, and a note of hope came into his voice as he heard Jaming's approach. "I'm holding onto the wall! Can't-"

There was another loud splash, and Pau's voice stopped in mid-sentence. It did not resume. "_Pau! _Keep _yelling, _you little-"

Something brushed past Jaming's leg, and he plunged an arm deep into the water to snag whatever the undertow was trying to pull out to sea. As he pulled the retching, spluttering Moon Person from the water, he realized that he had just barely managed to catch Pau by the ears!

"Owww! That hurts!" Pau sounded peevish now, but he didn't object as Jaming adjusted his grip and deposited the boy onto his back.

Looping the Moon Person's arms around his neck, Jaming quickly began to make his way out of the cave. The water was almost too high for him to keep his head above the surface without going on tip-toe, and soon it would be too high for him to stand at all. Then he would be completely at the mercy of the current, and he and Pau might still end up dead. "Sorry! Hold on, I've got you! I need both hands for swimming, so whatever you do, don't let go! Ggck! That does _not_ mean 'choke me'!"

Pau loosened his grip the tiniest bit, and Jaming made his way out of the cave and up onto the beach. A wave crashed into his back, knocking him to his knees and causing Pau to renew his death grip on Jaming's neck, but a few moments later they reached the relative safety of the palm grove.

Jaming bellowed in surprise and pain as a large coconut bounced off his shoulder, and as he neared his garage he realized that it was sheer luck that it hadn't struck either him or Pau in the head.

Meredith opened the door before they even reached it. She had been keeping watch at the window, wondering with increasing distress why Jaming hadn't arrived with the last of them, and when she finally saw him pelting towards the garage with Pau clinging to his back she nearly broke down in tears of relief.

Jaming grunted as Meredith tackled him with a hug that knocked the breath out of him, and he felt Pau slide off of his back to stand on the solid garage floor. He half expected Pau to drop to his knees and kiss it; the boy's relief was that obvious.

Meredith kissed him fiercely, then held his face between her hands as she glared at him. "Don't you e_ver _scare me like that again!"

Jaming, still out of breath, pressed his forehead against hers as Cap shut the door behind them and locked it. "I'm sorry. I noticed Pau was missing. He was trapped in his cave. Couldn't be helped, my dear."

Meredith knelt down to look Pau in the eye. "Are you okay, Pau?"

Pau nodded, clearly still very shaken, and wrung the water from his left ear. "I am _now._" The boy took in his surroundings, and seemed to realize for the first time that the place he was in was warm and safe. Pau blinked rapidly as if trying to stave off tears, and surprised Jaming by throwing his arms around the man's waist in a tight hug. "Th-thanks..."

Jaming awkwardly gave Pau a pat on the back, unused to being thanked very often, much less being hugged. "There are towels in that cabinet over there. Go dry off by the heater. Is everyone all right?"

There were a few scattered replies of 'yes', 'I'm fine', and 'we're okay', but there was also the whimpering of frightened children and low whispers. Jaming turned on the ceiling light, opened a control panel by the door, and keyed in a code so quickly that no one who might be watching would be able to see which buttons he pressed in which order. There was a rattle and a clang, and metal panels slowly lowered to cover the windows.

"What's he doing? He's shutting us in!" Someone near the back of the room pointed.

"Everyone will please remain calm," Jaming said evenly, holding up his hands for silence. "The accommodations are less than ideal, it's true, but you are not trapped in here. You may leave whenever you like, but I advise you to remain here until the storm blows over. The panels are merely to guard against broken windows. Now, is anyone hurt?"

"I have a scrape..." a little girl sniffled, holding up her hand to show that she had skinned her palm. "It hurts..."

"I'll bet it does..." Jaming said kindly, trying not to look as baffled by his response to the child's injury as he actually was. He hardly recognized his own voice! "But not to worry, we'll have you fixed up in a jiffy. Anyone who is injured, please form a line here, and we'll see what we can do. Meredith, would you help me?"

Gradually, the panicked atmosphere became more casual. No one was seriously hurt, and though Jaming's refrigerator was quickly cleaned out, everyone cooperated by rationing out the drinks so that no one was left thirsty.

Pau was soon very dry indeed, having removed his clothing so that he stood in his pelt by the heater, but as he so quickly pointed out, he never wore pants anyway and his fur was more than adequate coverage.

Jaming, on the other hand, balked severely at the suggestion that _he_ disrobe in order to get dry and warm. "Absolutely not! I'd rather freeze!"

Cap, who was of a practical mind, actually agreed with the blasted rabbit! "You're shivering pretty bad, son. We can probably rig up some sort of screen for privacy, and-"

"_No,_" Jaming hissed through gritted teeth, "I'd rather die from hypothermia! Leave me alone! I'll just sit by the heater, and I'll be fine."

"You could end up sick," Cap pointed out, but he got no further because Jaming slapped his palm on his work table with a deafening _'whack'_. His voice, however, was a low hiss.

"I said _no,_ and that's final! There are ladies and children present, and I absolutely _refuse!_"

"What's wrong?" Meredith asked from across the room as several curious eyes turned to look at the embarrassed inventor.

"Never you mind..." he muttered, turning away and getting himself a towel as he went to dry his hair by the heater.


	22. Chapter 22: Flu

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 22: Flu"

"Whoa!" Donny jumped at the sound of a loud crash from outside, then adjusted his hat nervously. "Somethin' just came down. Whatever it was, it was _big._"

"I bet it was one of the tree houses..." Pau whispered to him, but he underestimated Jaming's hearing.

Jaming knew it couldn't possibly be _his _tree house, because it sounded too far away for that. Which meant it was either one of the empty ones, or it was Meredith's. He could see by the look on her face that the same thought had crossed her mind, and he rested a hand on her shoulder.

She seemed to be taking it in stride, though. "As long as we're all safe in here, that's all I care about."

Sarah looked nervously at the metal shutters covering the windows, and asked, "Is it normal for the weather here to take such a dreadful turn?"

"Normal?" Cap, who was teaching card games to the children to amuse them, spoke over his shoulder as he dealt out a new game of 'Go Fish'. "Yes, and no. Storms happen, but this one's peculiar. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, then the next minute it's completely gray. We always get _some_ sort of sign first, but this time there _was_ none."

That storm was indeed a peculiar one. As quickly as it began, it ended a few hours after that. When Jaming peeked out of his garage door for a status report, the sun was out and shining brightly. "It seems to be over. I can see the metal houses in the distance. They seem to be intact. The shop boats as well. And...oh."

Meredith heard the note of dismay in his voice, and she wove her way through the crowd to see what he was seeing.

"One of the tree houses _has_ fallen. One of the uninhabited ones. It could have easily been one of ours." he told her.

Sarah maneuvered around them to survey the damage herself, walking with a slight limp. "Next time, it might be. Tree houses are for children."

"They were what was _here, _Mother. Can we not do this now, please?"

"Do what?" Sarah looked innocently at her. "I only said that they were dangerous."

Before things could escalate, a boy and a girl appeared in their midst, causing everyone to give a start of surprise. The boy coughed a little and stuffed an empty Escape Powder pouch into his pocket, and the girl quickly concealed what seemed to be a small, oddly-shaped blue gem. Both gazed about in astonishment, and Max was the first to speak. "What happened here?"

"A storm," Jaming replied succinctly, walking off with Meredith as she headed for the shop boats to see if any of her merchandise had survived.

Monica looked thoughtful and wrapped her fingers around the water gem in her pocket. Had _they_ caused the storm somehow?

* * *

><p><em>'You could end up sick.'<em>

Cap's words from the previous day passed mockingly through Jaming's pounding head as he forced himself to pick at his breakfast. His throat hurt so badly that he could hardly swallow water, much less solid food, and his body ached most annoyingly. As he sat at his work table, wracked with the chills, he grumbled, "Blasted old man...I hope a _seagull dropping_ lands on his head."

Jaming had so much work to do. His services were in demand after the damage the storm left behind, and he had so many repairs to do that it almost made him cringe. This was simply _no_ time for him to fall ill. The silver lining was, he wasn't nauseous.

Well, okay, maybe he was a _little_ queasy, but no matter. He pushed away his breakfast, still largely untouched, and surveyed the pile of his neighbors' damaged possessions with a critical eye. It seemed that all of the projects he had lined up were right here already. At least he would not have to go out and spread this germ around.

He stifled a cough, picked up a box of screws, then paused as he felt a tickle in his nose. He quickly set the box down again and waited for the sneeze to come, but nothing happened. "Hm. False alarm."

As soon as he picked up the box again and began to cross the room with it, a loud sneeze exploded out of him, and screws went flying everywhere. "_Damn _it!" he swore, grabbing a broom.

The morning ticked by with excruciating slowness, and when Meredith stopped by with lunch he was shivering so badly that he couldn't even hold his screwdriver steady. She found him sitting with his head in his hands, taking slow, shallow breaths through his mouth. "Soup's on. Hey...are you all right?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm fine," Jaming lifted his head and got up to greet her, but as soon as he did his eyes lost focus and he leaned on the table for balance. "Whoa..."

Meredith put the bag containing their lunch down on his work bench and cocked her head as she got a good look at his face. "You're _really _pale. Why don't you sit back down?"

"Nonsense, I merely stood up too quickly."

"You don't sound good, either. Are you sick?"

Jaming tried to focus on her face, but now there seemed to be _three_ of them, and he wished that his ears would quit ringing so that he could think of a good argument. Wait, what was he trying to argue about in the first place? And why wouldn't the floor stop rocking beneath him?

"Jaming?"

Her voice seemed to come from far away. Purple spots danced in front of his eyes before his vision went gray. The floor seemed to give a violent tilt, and he heard a voice call his name with a great deal of urgency as his vision went black. He felt himself being caught by someone, but he was too disoriented to know what took place immediately after that. His head hurt, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. There _was_ nothing.

Meredith caught him just in time as he began to tilt forward, but she very nearly dropped him again. Jaming was a bit on the lean side, but he was heavier than he looked, especially since he was essentially dead weight and not assisting her at all! And, judging by the baking heat that radiated from his body, he had come down with something.

Unable to lift him, the only alternative Meredith had was to lower him to the floor and try to get him to come around again. He was breathing normally and he hadn't hit his head, so Meredith wasn't too worried. She had seen people faint a few times before, and she thought it might be due to his fever. "Jaming, can you hear me? Jaming, it's Meredith, can you hear me?"

It wasn't long before he opened his eyes, but it was clear that he hadn't quite come back yet. His eyes were wide and staring, completely unfocused and more than a little bit frightened, and at first he didn't move his head at all in response to her voice. She kept talking to him, keeping her voice level and calm despite her worry, and in due time he blinked a few times and oriented on her.

"Mer...Meredith...?" he rasped quietly.

"I'm here," She smiled, "Don't try to move yet."

"Wha...what happened? How'd I get on the floor?" He was beginning to shiver again, and he tried to suppress it.

She petted his forehead, and her hand came away sweaty. "You just fainted, that's all. You'll be okay in a minute. Just don't move, okay?"

"I don't faint." Jaming sounded indignant.

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

"Hmph...I'm going to try sitting up." He said stubbornly, moving to do just that, almost seeming to dare her to try and stop him.

She scooted back a tiny bit to give him room, and she was relieved when he didn't turn pale again. He did, however, wrap his arms around himself. "Would you listen to me if I asked you to rest today?"

Jaming wanted to stand his ground and act tough, but he just didn't have the energy for it. His muscles _ached!_ And he was beginning to have trouble breathing out of one nostril. The left one, to be precise. Sighing in defeat, Jaming rubbed his face. "Maybe a short nap wouldn't hurt."


	23. Chapter 23: Confusion

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 23: Confusion"

When Jaming had promised Meredith that he would spend the day in bed, he had sent her back to the shop boat, assuring her that he would be perfectly fine. And, not wanting to irritate him by fussing over him too much, she had left him there in his bed in the corner of his garage against her better judgment. He had told her that he didn't want _her_ to catch it, and that there was little that could be done for the flu, other than resting and remembering to stay hydrated.

Still, as Meredith mended the clasp of a bracelet, she couldn't help thinking that she wished she had stayed there with him. She hadn't had a single customer all day, because everyone in Veniccio was busy cleaning up after the storm. And, since much of her stock of seashell jewelry had ended up back in the drink, she didn't have much left over that was worth selling. She could just as easily work on these things back at the garage!

More importantly, she knew how stubborn he was. She wouldn't put it past him to change his mind and get out of bed. Maybe she should go and check, just to be sure. _'No...I refuse to treat him the way my mother treats me. He's an adult. I'll check on him soon enough.'_

All the same, her eyes kept straying inland to where she knew he was _supposedly_ resting and recuperating.

During one of those times, she saw Pau jogging in her direction. She didn't think anything of it, because the little fellow frequently ran from place to place, almost as if he feared he was missing something. When he waved urgently to get her attention, though, she was on her feet in a second.

"Meredith! I think you better go see Jaming!"

"Why? What's wrong?" She was already half-way down the gangplank.

Pau braced his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, and answered in between pants, "He's just not acting right. He keeps pacing around his garage. I don't think he knows where he is."

"Okay...I'm gonna stop by my house for my thermometer and something to bring the fever down. Do you think you can watch the...ehh, just leave it, never mind. I don't have anything worth taking just now, so if someone wants a puka shell necklace that badly they can have it." Meredith jogged up the pier, dodging around the occasional person who looked at her like she had slipped a few gears.

"Hey, wait for me!" Pau zipped after her, still out of breath. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing too serious, I don't think, but that fever needs to come down."

* * *

><p>Meredith found Jaming standing in front of an empty cabinet, his hair messier than usual. He had emptied out the cabinet, carefully stacking its contents on the floor beside him, and he seemed extremely confused. When he turned to look at her, his confusion turned into anxiety, and he shook his head before peering into the cabinet once more, as if willing the thing he was looking for to appear out of thin air. Meredith came over, laid a gentle hand on his arm, and asked in a casually upbeat voice, "Hey, Jaming. What are you doing?"<p>

"I can't find it..." He allowed himself to be led over to the bed, but he stopped just short of sitting down. "I have to find it."

"What do you have to find, sweetie?"

He reached up and clutched his head, tugging lightly at his hair in frustration as he gave a soft growl. "I need to find the fire extinguisher!"

"Oh," Meredith nodded, taking his arm again and turning him slightly, pointing at the wall. "There it is, it's right there. See?"

Jaming shook his head impatiently. "It's the wrong color. It's supposed to be _green._" He half-staggered over to the cabinet, then pointed at it as if it had offended him in some way. "Who took everything out of there?"

"_You_ did, Jaming. Remember?" Meredith exchanged a look with Pau.

"See what I mean? He's gone all loopy!"

Jaming looked over at Pau, did a double-take, then backed into Meredith as he whispered, "Emperor Griffon...What is _he_ doing here?"

"Honey, that's Pau. You remember Pau, don't you?"

But Jaming already seemed to have forgotten about Pau, and with single-minded intensity he began to carefully put the cabinet's contents back where they belonged. "This is a _fire hazard!_ Who put this here?"

Meredith let him put his things away, taking the opportunity to get the thermometer from her first aid kit. "Jaming, I'm going to take your temperature, okay?"

He shook his head 'no', rifling through drawers and cabinets as he grew more and more agitated. "I can fix this...I have to fix it so it won't burn down!"

"_Jaming._"

Jaming turned to look at her, almost as if he hadn't noticed her before. His eyes were wide and full of hurt as he pleaded, "Don't yell at me..."

Meredith calmly approached him, trying to appear non-threatening. She felt as if she'd just kicked a puppy! "I'm sorry. I was just trying to get your attention. Here, put this in your mouth. Under your tongue, please."

He took the thermometer and did as he was told, but his eyes kept darting around the room as if he was seeing things that weren't really there. When the thermometer beeped, he took it out of his mouth and squinted at the tiny window. "One hundred and three point seven. Am _I_ burning up?"

She almost said 'in a manner of speaking', but realizing that he would probably take her literally in his fever-addled state, she kept it to herself. "Your fever's pretty high, Jaming. That's why you're a little confused right now."

"Ohhh," he nodded slowly. "My fever's...pretty high?" he blinked, and then he came out with something that, at the time, he thought sounded very clever. "_You're_ pretty. Hi!"

"Oh, _brother..._" Pau covered his face with a paw and shook his head as if to shield himself from the lameness.

Meredith chuckled a bit, and rolled her eyes. "All right. Come on, you. Back to bed."

"Okay...Um...Meredith?" He halted after taking two steps, and he was beginning to get a rather funny look on his face.

"Hm?"

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I do."

Jaming swallowed, "No matter what?"

Meredith nodded without hesitation. "No matter what."

"That's good..." he sighed, his normally blue cheeks turning an unhealthy green. "Because I think I'm about to vomit."

Pau turned and dashed out the door, nearly tripping in his haste to escape. "I'm outta here!"

* * *

><p>After Meredith was finally able to get Jaming to lie down in bed and to stop apologizing profusely, she rinsed out the sink and got a Mighty Healing out of the first aid kit. It was more for poison and the other strange physical effects that monsters could inflict, but it could also act as a fever reducer. And, since Jaming seemed uncertain when she asked him if he thought he could keep pills down, she decided that this was the way to go.<p>

Her own stomach churned uncertainly as she approached Jaming with the syringe. She could definitely understand why Pau had bolted, because if it had been anyone else she would have fled the room herself!

"That was...incredibly embarrassing," mumbled Jaming, lying on his side and looking like he wanted to disappear into the mattress.

"Hey, you couldn't help it..." Meredith sat down on the chair by the bed and opened an alcohol pad. "Hold out your arm, please."

Jaming listlessly did as he was told, and he didn't react to either the cold alcohol wipe or the pinch of the needle. He seemed to be trying to remember something as he fought to stay awake, and he muttered as he pointed at the red canister that hung on the wall, "Check the fire extinguisher...make sure it's still good..."

It probably didn't matter either way, but Meredith got up and checked the fire extinguisher anyway. Yep. The pressure gauge read 'operable', and the tamper seal was intact. She shrugged and went back to sit with him, wondering exactly why he was suddenly obsessed with fire extinguishers. It was the fever, of course, but he had seemed pretty determined. "It's fine. In fact, it looks new."

"Yes...I remember buying it now. Of course there's nothing wrong with it..."

Meredith thought that the shot she gave him must have begun to help, because he seemed a bit more lucid already. She took a small wash rag from one of the cabinets, rinsed it with very cold water, then wrung it out and laid it on his forehead. "Why were you so worried about the garage burning down?"

"Mm...some silly dream I had. I'd like to go to sleep now."

"Okay," Meredith nodded, getting up to retrieve her purse and look for her book of crossword puzzles, but he misunderstood and seized her by the hand. "What..."

"Don't leave..."

"I'm not. I'm must getting something to work on, okay?"

Jaming nodded, still battling to keep his eyes open. By the time Meredith had gotten her purse and come back, he was already asleep.


	24. Chapter 24: Troubled Slumber

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:_ _Why do I like torturing the characters I write about? I have no idea. Nightmare sequence and possible triggers ahead._

"Chapter 24: Troubled Slumber"

The Death Ark was truly a technological marvel, and one of Jaming's most successful inventions to date, despite relying on hot air rather than Aeroharmonics to get off the ground. He should have been very proud of his accomplishment, but he had trained himself to feel nothing. This was necessary, because a very small, very persistent voice in the back of his head kept screaming at him to stop what he was doing.

He had gotten very good at ignoring his conscience lately, but as the massive flying ship approached a distant lighthouse, the voice was louder than it had ever been. It was louder than the massive burners which heated the air in the balloon that kept them aloft, and his eyes were distant as Gaspard approached him from the left.

"So...That's the Moon Crystal, eh?"

Jaming nodded, unable to shake the odd sensation of déjà vu. "Yes."

Gaspard almost sounded gleeful as he mused, "Hmm, a stone that shows you the future. Even though all there is to see in the future is darkness and despair..."

The Moon Crystal. It seemed a shame to destroy something so beautiful and mysterious. And wait...yes, there were _people_ in that lighthouse! Jaming turned to Gaspard, his voice composed but uncertain. "What shall I do?"

Gaspard turned to him with a hard look in his eyes, and his answer came without a hint of hesitation. "Destroy it...Those are Emperor Griffon's orders."

Jaming gave a slight bow, figuratively shoving his conscience into a box. "Yes, sir."

A very clear thought passed through his brain. _'What am I doing? Is _this_ what I've worked so hard for? Jaming, you saw what the future holds. Is that truly what you want?'_

No, he _didn't_ want that. However, it was much too late to back out now. He had no choice.

"Nonsense, boy. There is _always_ a choice," said a gruff voice at Jaming's elbow.

A middle-aged man with a shock of slate gray hair and round wire-rimmed spectacles had replaced Gaspard, and Jaming stared at him in disbelief. "Father? Wh...what are you doing here?"

"The question is, what are _you_ doing here?"

Jaming's father faded from view, and so did everything else. "What _is_ this?"

A female voice, unseen but very close, was the next to speak. "What _happened _to you, Jaming? You never used to be like this..."

"Mother...How do you mean?"

"_Ruthless._ You used to have a heart. You used to want to be _accepted._ If those towns you helped destroy even knew of your existence, you would've been feared instead. Feared and _hated!_" The woman's voice was rough and angry. she had _never _spoken to him so coldly before!

"But...but I can fix this. I can _fix _this! I just need to-"

Jaming broke off and shielded his eyes as the pitch black nothingness morphed into a blazing inferno, and all at once he was coughing and lying on the ground outside of his old home. The dew-moistened grass tickled the back of his neck, and his father stood over him.

Oh yes...he knew exactly where and when he was! Mere weeks before his seventeenth birthday, an electrical fire had started in their neighbor's home and spread to theirs during the night. He had very vague memories of being woken up and dragged out to the front lawn, but everything after that was very clear. "Father...no, not again..."

"Stay there! Your mother's still inside!"

"No! I know what happens! You can't-" Jaming struggled to get up, but he found that he couldn't move. His limbs would not cooperate.

His father disappeared. The house collapsed in on itself, sending flames reaching far above the treetops. His parents' disembodied voices, hoarse from the smoke, once more sounded very close to him as he struggled to move.

"Even after living through _this_, you used your gifts to try and visit the same fate upon others. You _shame_ us, Jaming. You are no son of ours!"

"N-no...I'm sorry! I'm _sorry!_"

* * *

><p>Meredith sat beside Jaming as the day drew to a close, chewing meditatively on her eraser as she tried to figure out the answer to what should have been an easy crossword puzzle question. <em>'Hmm...a three letter word for a louse or a fool. I'll bet <em>he'd _know.'_

The 'he' in question lay curled up on his right side, facing her and snoring congestedly, but sleeping quite soundly. His throat would most likely be sore from sleeping with his mouth open on top of being ill, but there wasn't much that could be done about that.

Earlier, Meredith had set a pitcher of water and an empty cup on a nearby table, thinking that Jaming might need a drink when he woke up. His fever had lowered, though his face was still flushed, and she was hopeful that he would wake up feeling a little better.

Sadly, this was not to be. As Meredith finally figured out the answer and filled in the word 'nit', Jaming began to show outward signs of experiencing a truly horrific nightmare. He clenched his eyes tight and seized a handful of the bedspread, moaning softly.

Meredith looked over to see if he was awake, but she set her puzzle book aside when she realized he was in distress. "Jaming?"

Jaming half buried his face in the pillow, the moans turning into a low whine. "N-no...M'sorry..._M'sorry!_"

"Hey..." Meredith reached out and stroked his back, noticing that the fabric of his shirt was damp with sweat and that he was shivering as if his chills had returned. "Wake up, Jaming. You're dreaming."

"Nuh!" He jolted, lifting his head and staring over at her with a wide-eyed, tortured expression. "I'm _sorry!_"

"Easy, it's okay. Do you know where you are?"

Jaming blinked, looking rather confused, and his eyes scanned the room with dawning recognition. His head flopped back down on the pillow, and he reached up with a trembling hand to wipe the fever sweat from his face. "Yes. Ugh, that was...that was horrible."

Meredith poured him a glass of cool water from the pitcher, and offered it to him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Jaming, still shaking a little, took the glass and drained it in three large swallows, ignoring his sore throat. "I just want to forget it."

"Okay," She felt his forehead. "Now that you're awake, I'd like to see if your fever's gone."

He nodded, reaching for the pitcher to pour himself another glass, but it was too far away, and Meredith did it for him. With his memories of the nightmare receding, Jaming became more aware of his physical status. He was no longer nauseous, but his throat felt like it was on fire, and he could not breathe through his nose at all. And, as he went down a mental checklist of his symptoms, he covered his mouth and gave a rattling cough.

"Well, _that _sounds wonderful..." Meredith said with rueful sarcasm as she sat down on the edge of the bed, pressed the button on the thermometer, and put it in his mouth. He began to make a garbled retort, but she shook her head. "No talking, or we won't get an accurate reading."

When the thermometer beeped, she took it back and nodded. "Ninety-nine even. Much better than before."

Jaming sighed, not particularly caring. He couldn't get his parents' hateful words out of his head! No...not his parents themselves, but a dream figment of his parents brought on by his illness. Were they _wrong,_ though? Was his own psyche yelling at him in his parents' voices? How cruel dreams could be! Perhaps deservedly so, but still...

Meredith correctly assumed that he was still troubled by his nightmare. He'd said that he didn't want to talk about it, so she didn't ask him again. Instead, she shifted her position so that she was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him and held out an inviting arm.

Jaming's response was a sure sign that he was _truly_ upset, and that he cared little about his ego at that moment. His eyes met hers for the briefest of moments before he nestled in close and rested his head against her, accepting the offered hug with the deepest sigh she'd ever heard him give. "My parents would be so ashamed of me."

"What?" She frowned.

"Oh, you know..."

"No, I don't. What are you talking about?" Meredith asked gently, smoothing his gravity-defying hair back from his sweat-damp brow.

"Because of the things I've done..." he whispered, and she could feel a wet spot growing on the front of her shirt that had nothing to do with sweat.

Now, this was dangerous territory. He _had_ done things that would be horrifying and disappointing for any parent, so that concern of his was probably valid. On the other hand, he was trying so hard to make amends, and Meredith knew that he really _was_ a good man who had fallen in with a bad crowd and sinned right along with them. It would be so easy to accidentally say the wrong thing!

"I think...your parents would be very proud of you _now,_ Jaming." she whispered back, and for a moment she was afraid that she _had _said the wrong thing, because he didn't say anything at first.

"I wish I could believe that," he finally told her.

"Why wouldn't they be? _I'm _proud of you."

Jaming pulled away from her, but this was only because he had to sneeze. He accepted the tissue she gave him, and surreptitiously dabbed at his eyes before blowing his nose. "You're just saying that."

"Well, just think about it for a minute," she told him, "Look at what you've done since you left Griffon. You made a life for yourself here. You help people out when they really need it. You saved Pau's life. You and Pau saved _my _life. And you've gotten back to doing what you do best. What is there about refusing to give up that is so shameful? I can't think of a single thing."

"I can't take everything else back..."

"No, you can't," she agreed, passing him another tissue. "But you _learned_ from it."

"The people I hurt..."

"Jaming..."

He didn't look at her, but he seemed to be listening. Leaning against her once more, he closed his eyes.

"Jaming," she said again, more gently this time, "you _can't _move forward if you keep looking back. You just can't. And as for your parents...you're their _son._ They _loved _you."

Jaming finally nodded, taking in her words and digesting them. He had a lot to think about. He would have liked to go back to sleep, but he didn't want a repeat of his nightmare, and he was already all slept out. And, at that moment, his empty stomach gave such a loud, long grumble that they both sat up and looked at it.

Cracking a sheepish smile, Jaming settled his hand over his belly and asked, "Is there anything to eat?"

Meredith chuckled and pointed to Jaming's small stove that sat in another corner of the room. A pot sat on one of the burners, which was on its lowest setting. "I was wondering when you'd notice. My mother made some chicken and rice soup when she heard you were sick, and sent it over with Claire. Think you can keep it down?"

Jaming was quite touched by the gesture, and he made a mental note to thank Sarah later on when he was no longer contagious. It was bad enough that Meredith would probably catch it now! His stomach wasn't churning like it had been earlier that day, so he gave a tentative nod. "Hopefully."


	25. Chapter 25: Pau's Instant Karma

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ Okay, WanderingSoulofTime...you asked for it. So, here ya go! By the way, everyone, check out his stuff. It's awesome!_

"Chapter 25: Pau's Instant Karma"

Pau whistled through his large, rabbit-like teeth as he jogged in the direction of Jaming's garage, a leather satchel containing a care package bouncing on his back. As Jaming had feared, Meredith had caught his flu, so the two sickies had more or less quarantined themselves in the garage in an effort to keep the bug from spreading.

Not for the first time, Pau wondered to himself what those two_ did _in there all day. Meredith didn't want Jaming to exhaust himself with work, and Jaming was now insisting that Meredith get the rest _she_ needed. Though the way the blue-hued inventor put it, 'turnabout is fair play'. There wasn't even a television in there; Jaming claimed that he never watched it, so owning one was pointless.

_'Oh, well. They're probably just lying around doing nothing, like sick people do.'_

When Pau reached the garage, though, he paused at the sound of voices coming from inside. Curious, he pressed his ear to the door and listened.

"I think mine's a little misshapen," This was Jaming's voice.

_'Huh?'_ Pau frowned.

"It looks fine to me," replied Meredith.

"Well, if you say so...I'm not very experienced. Now, do I just stick this in there?"

Pau's eyes widened and he covered his mouth, appalled. _'No, they _can't_ be...'_

"Whenever you're ready," said Meredith. There was a moment or two during which neither of them said anything, and then she gave a sharp yelp. "Ouch!"

"Are you all right?" Jaming was heard shifting a bit, and he sounded very concerned.

"Of course," she chuckled, "It's just a little prick."

Pau shook his head violently as if trying to dislodge water from his ears and muttered, "No way..."

"Did you hear something?" Jaming asked Meredith, and Pau froze.

"Nope. Hm, you're doing a pretty good job!"

More shifting, as if someone was changing position or getting comfortable, then Jaming swore quietly. "Drat...I can't find the silly thing..."

"I think you're sitting on it."

"Oh, you're right. Here it is."

Pau covered his mouth as an almighty laugh began to bubble up from inside him. Were they _really_ doing what he thought they might be doing? He knew that he should walk away and pretend he hadn't heard a thing, but his curiosity wouldn't allow him to leave until he knew for sure.

He didn't want to just walk in, though. Jaming occasionally became very cross with him when he did that, and he was slowly learning the art of 'knocking and waiting'. And if they were up to no good in there, he didn't want to get caught listening, or to let them know that _they_ had been caught.

Then he noticed that the curtains were open, and he thought to himself, _'Just about anyone who passed by could look in and see what they were doing!'_

Maybe he should knock on the door and run away, just to get their attention, and then they might notice that they had left the curtains open.

Maybe just a quick peek first. He knew that humans were _different_, but he didn't know precisely _how,_ and rather than having a perverted interest in their illicit activities he was genuinely interested to know exactly how it worked. Was it the same as it was for Moon People?

Pau glanced around for something to stand on, and he found a small plastic bucket. That would probably do nicely. He placed it underneath the window and got on top of it, standing on the toes of one foot to peek over the edge of the sill.

Jaming and Meredith were in bed, all right. There the two of them sat, as innocent as could be. Fully-clothed, on top of the covers, and Meredith was quite obviously teaching Jaming how to make puka shell necklaces to pass the time. The table beside the bed was covered with flu paraphernalia, and the waste basket was nearly full to overflowing with snotty tissues.

Pau wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. And the next thing he knew, the bucket he was standing on tipped over because he had leaned forward too far, and as he fell he knocked over a large bird feeder. "Ow!"

"Now, I _know_ I heard that!" Jaming was heard climbing over Meredith, who complained that he couldn't just wait a minute for her to move out of the way, and the door was nearly ripped open. "_Pau! _What do you think you're doing?"

Pau was already getting up and he dusted himself off, glad that his fur hid his flushing cheeks. "I, uh...I brought you two a care package. Here ya go."

Jaming raised an eyebrow as Pau dug a small box out of his satchel and tossed it to him, and he scratched his head as he watched him run off.

"What was _that_ all about?" Meredith came up behind him, holding a half-finished puka shell necklace. Her thumb had a tiny puncture mark from the thin needle she had used to string the shells.

Jaming slowly shook his head, analyzing Pau's embarrassed reaction, their previous conversation, and the overturned bucket. Then it clicked, and he began to laugh. "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but I think Pau might have jumped to an embarrassing conclusion."

A moment later Jaming was coughing, and the two of them went back inside.

Meredith, for once, was way more upset about this than Jaming was, and her cheeks were now as red as her nose. "Serves him right, the little peeping tom..."

_Note:__ What were _you _thinking? Sickos..._


	26. Chapter 26: Boundary Trampling

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 26: Boundary Trampling"

A few days after Jaming and Meredith had fully recovered from their illness, he spotted Sarah knitting in the shade of a large palm tree, and he decided to go and greet her. Sarah and Meredith were getting along fairly well these days, and the older woman had gone out of her way to be nice to her daughter's boyfriend. He thought it only right that he be civil in return, and besides, he had actually grown to like her a little bit. He might not agree with her methods, but he couldn't fault her motives.

"Good afternoon, Sarah," he said politely, offering a slight smile even though he still couldn't quite relax around her.

"Ah, Jaming. Good afternoon," Sarah moved her knitting supplies out of the way and waved him over. "Will you sit with me for a few minutes? I've been meaning to have a chat with you."

Uh-oh.

Jaming reached up and touched his monocle, almost as if to reassure himself that it was still there, and cleared his throat. "I was just on my way to ask Cap something...but he isn't expecting me, so I suppose..."

"This won't take long."

_'But I have a feeling it will _feel_ like forever. I know that look. My mother used to give me that look when I had misbehaved.'_

"Very well," Trying to appear nonchalant, he walked over and sat down beside her. "What is it?"

Sarah resumed her knitting, the small bamboo knitting needles clicking like the pincers of some angry insect. "There is a rumor going around about you and Meredith."

"What sort of rumor?"

"Regarding the two of you staying closed up in that garage. Day and _night._" The emphasis on that last word was unmistakable.

His cheeks immediately grew warm, but his indignation was stronger than his embarrassment. He and Meredith hadn't even _done _anything the week or so that they were sick. And even if they had, wasn't it _their _business? "Well, this is what I was thinking. You might be _right_ about those tree houses. Trying to climb the ladder when you are experiencing vertigo and confusion brought on by a fever would be extremely unsafe."

"That is beside the point. I worry about my daughter's reputation. Things have been hard enough for her as it is." Click, click. Click, click.

A hint of iciness entered Jaming's voice, and he was sitting very straight. "Ma'am...your daughter is thirty years old. People are going to talk about other people no matter _what _they do. Or _don't_ do. I have no use for rumors or the ones who spread them."

"My name is 'Sarah', not 'Ma'am'. Don't call me 'Ma'am', it makes me feel old."

"I imagine that must be almost as infuriating as being made to feel like a child," Jaming shot back, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. He was letting his temper get the better of him.

The clicking of Sarah's knitting needles abruptly halted, and she stared at Jaming in great surprise. He stared right back at her, unwilling to back down. "You must think that I'm cruel and controlling."

If she wanted him to disagree with her for the sake of politeness, he wasn't interested in playing those games. "I don't think that you _mean _to be. I know that you worry about Meredith's welfare."

"Hm...You might not want to believe it, but I have reasons for the things I do," Her knitting picked up speed again. "It's been quite difficult, Jaming. Watching your child suffer, and knowing that there is so little you can do to stop it. I can't think of too many things that are worse than that."

Jaming privately thought to himself that _he_ could probably think of a few, remembering with great unease the devastation that was still taking place in the world as a result of Emperor Griffon's rampage. Then again, he wasn't a parent himself, so he supposed that he had no basis for comparison.

"Did you notice the way she speaks?" asked Sarah.

Jaming frowned, adjusting his monocle in what almost seemed to be a nervous tick. "I'm not sure what you mean. I always thought that she spoke very well. A little slowly sometimes, perhaps..."

"Aha," Sarah turned her knitting and started a new row. "Did you know that she used to stutter? Speaking slowly so that her brain wouldn't get ahead of her mouth and trip her up was one of the techniques she learned to control it. It took years of practice, though..."

Jaming remembered how some children, and adults for that matter, could be about such things. It seemed to him that anyone who was different from the norm was either viewed as a curiosity, or was made to feel inferior. The thought of Meredith going through any of the things that _he_ went through made him feel sick. "I take it her peers were unkind?"

Sarah nodded. "That is an understatement. Oh, not _all _of them. Not even _most _of them. The group of bullies was pretty small, but believe me, they made up for it. The thing was...they tormented her so badly that for a long time she lost all trust in people. I lost count of how many times she came home crying. And there was _nothing_ I could do to stop it. Believe me, I tried."

Jaming hated what he was hearing. Despite the different situation, it was so familiar, and it broke his heart! And he realized that Meredith would hate for him to hear it from someone other than her. "Maybe you shouldn't tell me these things."

Ignoring this with the cool aplomb of a woman who was used to sidestepping the will of others, Sarah went on as if he hadn't spoken at all. She had a point to make, and she was determined to _make_ it, boundaries be damned. "Those other children...It was a group of three. They could tell that she was afraid, and yet this only seemed to encourage them. One day...she came home...covered in scrapes and missing a shoe." She looked up at Jaming, who was horrified, and her voice turned bitter. "She said she had fallen down."

_'I used to fall down a lot.'_

Jaming took off his monocle and rubbed a hand down his face as if wiping the thought away. _'Ah, Meredith...'_

"Do you know what that's _like_ for a parent?"

Jaming shook his head, putting his monocle back on. "Not first-hand. But I do know the child's point of view. _Look_ at me, Sarah. Take a good, long look. I'm not like everyone else. I barely even look _human_. My parents lived through a lot of what _you_ lived through. It wasn't easy for them, either. It isn't easy for _any _of us."

Sarah nodded slowly, taking in Jaming's strange appearance. Her daughter was truly able to see something that few even bothered to look for. Jaming was prickly and reclusive because of the way he had been treated all his life, but every now and then his walls would lower a bit to show a glimpse of intelligence, kindness, and even a sense of humor. "Then you understand why she needs to come home with me."

Jaming felt a pang of frustration. He thought he was getting through to her! He kept it to himself, though. "I understand why _you _want that. You want her where you can keep an eye on things, so that you can go on protecting her."

"Exactly."

Jaming felt a wave of compassion for this woman in spite of himself. "May I speak freely?"

"You seem to have no trouble expressing yourself, young man," Sarah replied, amused but unsure.

"Well...My parents died several years ago. And, like you tried to do with Meredith, they sheltered me a great deal. As a result of this, when I lost them I could barely function in the outside world. I was homeless for a time. I took several wrong paths, and I made _many _mistakes. Meaning no disrespect, no one lives forever. The Meredith _I _know is kind, funny, and self-assured. And yet, you seem to feel _threatened_ by this."

The color drained from Sarah's face and she began to look very angry, but she did not interrupt.

"Your daughter has made a _life _for herself here, and there is not _one _person here who wishes her harm. She is capable of minding her own reputation. That does _not_ mean that she doesn't need or love her mother. But I think, and I'm sure that she'd agree, that she needs her mother to _let her be an adult._"

Sarah's lips tightened into straight, colorless line, and she gathered up her knitting and stalked away without another word.

Jaming watched her go, and he suffered a rather belated stab of dread. _'This could either be very good...or very bad.'_

Well, it was too late to do anything about it now. He got to his feet once more, straightened his vest, and resumed his trek to Cap's shop boat. There was no way he was going to brave the Ocean's Roar Cave for something he couldn't even carry. Traveling around the coast by boat was a much better option. It was time to see a man about a platform.


	27. Chapter 27: A Clash of Wills

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ There's some heavy stuff ahead, including a mother/daughter showdown, and some issues get resolved. Even with this messy business, I promise Sarah won't be the mother-in-law from Hell. Get yourselves some popcorn, and sit back. This is going to be a long one!_

"Chapter 27: A Clash of Wills"

"You want me to do _what,_ now?" Cap squinted up at Jaming before gesturing with his pipe. "I have people countin' on me, boy! This is a _shop_ boat, not a barge. I can't cost my tenants a full day's work in pursuit of something that might not even _be_ there anymore."

This wasn't the answer Jaming hoped for, but it wasn't unexpected. "It's there. I'm sure of it. I would not be asking if it wasn't important."

"It's my call to make, but I can't make it lightly," the old man sucked on his pipe and blew out a noxious cloud of tobacco smoke, hardly seeming to notice as Jaming muffled a cough behind his fist.

"I understand, sir. I'll find another way." Jaming turned to leave, doing his best to conceal his frustration and disappointment.

"Now, hold on a minute," Cap reached out and snagged Jaming's elbow.

Jaming reflexively yanked his arm out of Cap's grip, but turned back to hear what he had to say. He still wasn't too keen on being touched for the most part. Though he usually tolerated it when he knew it was coming, he still reacted defensively when it came as a surprise.

"I didn't forget what you did for us during that strange storm. I don't think the others did either. Give me a day or two to see if they're willing. Can't promise nothin', but I'll see what I can do," And then Cap gave a sly smile. "I'm sure your Meredith will say yes."

Jaming flushed, then frowned when Cap laughed at his reaction. "Um, yes...thank you. If you'll excuse me."

"Yep. Hey, son!" Cap bracketed his mouth with his hands to help his voice carry. Jaming was already descending the gangplank.

The inventor turned back to look quizzically at Cap. "Yes?"

"Lighten up, will ya?"

Turning his back and striding away, Jaming muttered to himself, "That's easier said than done."

As Jaming crossed the docks, he spotted Meredith and Sarah speaking in low, heated tones. He slowed his walk, remembering how he had angered Sarah not too long ago, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He wasn't too worried about what Sarah thought of him, but if Meredith took offense at his 'treatment' of her mother, he would have a lot of explaining to do!

"I won't hear another word, Meredith! I expect you to be packed and ready to board the train tomorrow morning!"

"But-"

Sarah imperiously held up a hand. "It's _all_ settled."

Jaming goggled in disbelief as Sarah walked away with her head held high. _'It's as if everything I said earlier went in one ear and out the other!'_

Sarah brushed past him without a word, and Jaming could swear that he actually _felt_ a physical chill. There was no way she didn't know he was there; she was ignoring him. He looked back at Meredith, and took in the expression of utter defeat on her face. _'Oh no...'_

She couldn't actually be considering it, could she?

Meredith turned and headed in the opposite direction of the shop boats. By all appearances, she had been on her way to work. Now it seemed that she had decided not to show up.

She didn't seem to have seen Jaming, but he wondered if she simply didn't want to speak to him just then.

Jaming then noticed that she wasn't heading in the direction of her tree house. Nor was she approaching her usual shell-gathering stretch of beach. She was heading in the opposite direction, where there was a cave that was rather more like a tunnel. He had always gotten a strange feeling there, almost as if the place was haunted, but it had never felt like a threatening sort of presence. He knew that she occasionally went there when she craved solitude. _'She must want to be alone.'_

That didn't mean he couldn't check on her to make sure she was all right.

* * *

><p>When Jaming found her sitting cross-legged near the far opening of the tunnel-like cave with her elbows resting on her knees and her chin propped up on her folded hands, she didn't seem at all surprised that he had followed her.<p>

"I'm probably not very good company today." she warned.

Jaming sat down beside her with his legs stretched out in front of him, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I'm not very good company _most _days, and yet you're there for me."

She leaned against him, her eyes studying the far wall. "How did you find me?"

"I followed you," he replied, idly toying with her hair. "I was coming back from speaking to Cap, and I happened to catch the tail end of your argument with your mother."

"Tsh..." Meredith snorted mirthlessly, shaking her head. "Boy, is she pissed at _you._ I'm sorry if she said anything nasty to you. All I got was her side of it..."

"No, she didn't," Jaming shook his head. "Not to my face, that is. I don't know what she said to _you,_ other than what little I caught before she walked off. She seems...quite determined."

Jaming was both startled and dismayed when Meredith suddenly burst into tears, and as she tried to apologize he gently shushed her and gathered her close. He couldn't tell her so, but he sometimes envied her for still having one of her parents around to fight with. That didn't mean that he wanted to see her so conflicted, though! Sarah was most definitely in the wrong here.

"I just feel like such a horrible, selfish person..." She told him when she was able to get the words out, "What am I supposed to do here?"

He passed his hand over her hair, so much softer than his, and suppressed the anger that was directed at Sarah. "I can't tell you that. What I _can _tell you is that you are most definitely _not_ a horrible, selfish person. Forget about 'should' and 'supposed to'. Put those on the shelf for now. What do you _want_ to do?"

Meredith expected the answer to be difficult to give. When 'should' was removed from the equation and she forced herself to think about it objectively, though, the answer wasn't hard to say at all. "I want to stay here. Going back for a visit someday might be okay. But going back to _stay?_ I...I think I'd go crazy. But how do I tell her that?"

"It won't be easy," he sighed, rubbing her back as she leaned on his chest and hiccuped quietly. "Meredith...are you sure you're not staying here partly because of me?" She didn't answer him right away, and he took her silence as confirmation. "Because if it makes it easier to decide, I'd follow you anywhere."

Boy, didn't _that _make him sound like a creepy stalker?

Fortunately, she seemed to know that he didn't mean it like that. "That's my newest reason for wanting to stay here, but Palm Brinks just isn't home anymore. I _know_ I'm not going anywhere, but I'm just not looking forward to that confrontation tomorrow."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Are you kidding?" Meredith finally looked up at him, "She'll eat you alive..."

He chuckled darkly and pressed his forehead against hers. "I defected from Emperor Griffon and lived to tell the tale. I say bring it on!"

* * *

><p>The next day Jaming walked with Meredith as she drew near the station, his spine as straight as if he had swallowed a poker. His stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies, but it was more out of concern for her than from his own nervousness. He didn't like confrontations unless he had a pretty good chance of coming out on top, and not only was that not a guarantee in this case, it wasn't even his fight.<p>

Jaming looked over at Meredith, and his brows drew together when he saw how very pale she was. She almost looked like she was going to be sick! He slipped his hand into hers, but kept his grip loose in case she didn't want that at the moment. "I'm with you."

She lightly squeezed his hand. "I know. Jaming..."

"Yes?"

She drew a deep breath and turned to him. Sarah was visible from where they stood, but she hadn't spotted them yet. "I think it might be better if I did this on my own. She'll probably get angry and have a go at you if you're there."

Jaming was already expecting that, and he knew that he could handle it, but this wasn't about what he wanted. What he did next didn't come easily to him at all; he honored her wishes. "If that's what you want. But if you need me, I'll be nearby." He leaned forward, ignoring the other people on the crowded platform, and lightly rubbed noses with her. Being unable to kiss her back wasn't so bad when there were other ways to express it. "You can do this. I love you."

She returned the gesture before hugging him and kissing his cheek. "I love you, too. This shouldn't take long. I hope."

Jaming let her walk on ahead and, never taking his eyes off her, he moved out of the flow of traffic and stood with folded arms. He would be able to see and hear everything from where he was without being seen by Sarah, but he resolved not to interfere unless Meredith called for him. _'Just when I was beginning to like Sarah, she had to go and pull a stunt like this...'_

* * *

><p>"Meredith, you're not packed!" Sarah seemed astonished by this. She herself was carrying a single suitcase. Meredith hadn't even brought her purse.<p>

"No," Meredith agreed. "I-"

"Well, no matter," Sarah interjected, unwilling or unable to let Meredith finish. "We can send for your things later. The train's going to leave soon."

Meredith chewed her lower lip and looked down. Her nose detected the faint scent of Jaming's cologne. He never wore much, and it was barely noticeable on him, but some of it must have rubbed off when she hugged him. He was nearby. She wasn't alone. Her mother couldn't bully her into obedience this time. She raised her eyes and met her mother's gaze with a calmness that she hadn't expected. "I'm not going with you, Mother."

Sarah blinked, faltering a little before smiling indulgently. "_Yes, _Cricket. Of course you are."

Shaking her head slowly, Meredith answered in a voice that was quiet but firm. "No."

Sarah's smile slowly faded, and her face became stony. "_He_ persuaded you to stay, didn't he?"

"No. I don't want to go anywhere he isn't, but even if there _was _no Jaming, I still could never live in Palm Brinks again. And-"

"He's poisoned you against your own mother."

"Mother, _stop it!_" Meredith's shout drew many a stare, and though she wasn't aware of it, Jaming had shifted his position as he forced himself to remain where he was. She lowered her voice once more, and though her voice shook with anger and sadness, she was no longer pulling her punches. She was used to Sarah badgering _her_ into giving in, but verbally attacking her boyfriend most definitely crossed the line. At least Jaming had made an effort at diplomacy! "Don't ever say that about him again. He hasn't influenced my choices in any way, and he's never been anything but polite to you!"

"You were never this disrespectful before you met him!" Sarah shot back, clearly having chosen Jaming as her scapegoat. Her anger over having her will thwarted far overshadowed her positive opinions of Jaming, and she knew that she would regret her words later, but at the moment she couldn't stop herself. Her daughter was breaking away from her, and she _hated_ that.

"Wanting to have a life of my own is hardly disrespectful!"

"You can _have _a life of your own in Palm Brinks! You can bring him with you! He even told me he'd be willing to go!"

Meredith's face paled before turning a rather interesting shade of scarlet. "You're not _listening_ to me. I left that place for a reason. You _know _why I left, and you know that it had nothing to do with Jaming. I didn't leave because of him, and I'm not staying because of him."

Sarah could feel her control over her daughter slipping away faster than she could recover it. She was losing.

"If I went back to Palm Brinks, I _wouldn't _have a life of my own. I would have the life _you_ want to force on me." Meredith was shaking now as her body was flooded with adrenaline. It didn't feel good.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing...Meredith, I'm your _mother!_"

"I know. And I _love _you. I _hate_ saying these things to you! But don't make me choose between your happiness or mine, because that's not fair." Meredith's voice was losing strength now, and she looked absolutely desolate. What did it take to get her mother to listen to her?

Sarah felt something inside of her turn over, and she finally realized that her demands were unreasonable and that she was dangerously close to losing her relationship with her daughter. Maybe she had already damaged it beyond repair, and they were just going through the motions. She wanted to say something, but nothing came to her. She and Meredith both had tears running down their cheeks now, and they were drawing many a curious glance from the passengers boarding the train.

"You're...going to miss your train," Meredith looked down, wishing she could sink into the floor and disappear. It was only the knowledge that Jaming was nearby that kept her from fleeing the platform.

Sarah set down her suitcase and slowly stepped forward. She reached out and put a finger under Meredith's chin. "My baby...What have I done to you?"

Meredith looked up, stunned, then found herself enveloped in her mother's arms. "I don't..."

"There's no more time to talk; the train's about to leave, like you said. But...I was _wrong_. And I treated your young man abominably." Sarah stepped back, smiling sadly. "I hope you'll come back to Palm Brinks soon. For a visit. Jaming is welcome, too...if he'll accept my invitation after this."

Jaming was still listening, but he was no longer watching them. If there was one thing he hated, it was emotional goodbyes. The mixture of gladness at Meredith's salvaged relationship with her mother and the intense jealousy he felt because she still _had_ one swirled unsettlingly in his heart, and he focused on the ocean horizon in an effort to keep his composure.

Most of all, though, he was proud of her. When the train puffed to life and began to pull out of the station, he went over to check on her. "How did it go? Are you all right?"

Meredith smiled as he put his arm around her, and she slipped her arm around his waist as she leaned into the hug. "I am now."

"That's...that's good."

Meredith got a better look at his face, and she saw that his eyes were a bit shinier than usual. "Are _you_ all right?"

"Yes," He nodded, and he was telling the truth. Mostly. "Shall we go for a walk?"

She smiled. "Walk this off, you mean? Absolutely."


	28. Chapter 28: Voyage

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ "Heeey, I thought this was supposed to be a story about Dr. Jaming! Why are you focusing so much on your OC lately!" Now, hold on a minute. It's a story about how Dr. Jaming ended up having a grandson in the future, among other things. It sort of bothers me when a canon character ends up with their non-canon love interest 'just because', so I feel that a bit of background is necessary to keep an OC from being a 'cookie cutter girlfriend/boyfriend'. I plan to focus more on Jaming himself and his interactions with other characters for the next couple chapters or so._

"Chapter 28: Voyage"

It came as a pleasant surprise to Jaming when Cap approached him with the news that every vendor who worked on the old man's shop boat not only agreed to give up one business day, but that they had also offered to help Jaming in his effort to retrieve his damaged property from the far beach of Shigura Village. The final details of the expedition were hammered out rather quickly, and it was a fine, calm morning when they set out to round the coast.

As Jaming stepped aboard the shop boat, Cap waved him over and held out a small packet with a conspiratorial whisper. "In case ya get seasick. Take it."

Jaming read the label aloud. "Huh? 'Nausea-Be-Gone'?" He felt rather insulted, and folded his arms. It was true that he had never been on a boat at sea, but he remembered having no issues with motion sickness on the Death Ark, and being offered a pill with the understood assumption that he needed one almost felt like a blow to his masculinity! "No, thank you. I don't need it."

Cap, who had far more experience with such things, smirked as if he knew something Jaming did not. "Son, I'm tellin' ya, even the most seasoned sailor occasionally ends up leaning over the side. It's up to you, but let me offer you some friendly advice; you _never_ hurl in front of a woman."

The old man pointed with his chin at where Meredith stood, chatting with a few of the others as they got things more or less in order for departure. Jaming felt his cheeks heating up as he remembered two occasions where he had done just that, occasions that he had almost forgotten about. _'I'm afraid it's a bit too late already.'_

Sighing, Jaming quickly took the pill from Cap and swallowed it dry. Why should he let two become three?

"What was that?" came a voice from Jaming's elbow, causing the inventor to jump.

"Donny?" Jaming raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have tourists you should be overcharging?"

"Well, _that's _not very nice! I'm here to help ya!" Donny planted his fists on his hips, squarely facing Jaming despite the height difference.

Seeing that he had been unnecessarily brusque, Jaming slipped the empty motion sickness pill packet into one of his many pockets. "My apologies; you startled me. Won't you lose a lot of business if you join us?"

Donny grinned up at Jaming, already over it, and shrugged. "Aw, one day won't hurt anything. Besides, you gave us all a safe place to crash when the weather turned bad, so I kinda owe ya one."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Well, like it or not, I'm in." Donny sat down rather suddenly on a crate as the shop boat began to leave the docks. "Say, if this thing you're going out to get is broken, I don't suppose you'd be willing to sell it to me, would ya?"

Jaming shook his head as he leaned casually against the rail. "I'm afraid not. I need it as a basis for comparison. You see, I'm trying to recreate my previous success, but so far..."

"No soap, huh?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"No _luck,_" Donny clarified.

"Oh. That's correct." Jaming nodded. Seeing the disappointment on the boy's face, though, Jaming felt a pang of something he couldn't put a name to, and he thought about it for a moment. "However..."

Donny's head lifted abruptly, and if he were a dog his ears would have been perked.

"If I were to succeed in duplicating the device, I would no longer need the old one. Normally I would recycle the parts, but if you truly want them that badly..."

"You serious?" Donny was grinning now.

"Well, I would rather see it put to good use, and I'm sure you can think of something." Jaming replied.

"Gee, that's great!"

He tried not to smile at Donny's reaction. The boy could be annoying as hell sometimes, and in this regard he was similar to Pau, but Jaming had to admit that he was a pretty good kid.

Unfortunately, Donny _had_ to follow this up with an obnoxious remark. "You're not so bad after all!"

"Thank you...I think." Jaming rolled his eyes and turned away. There wasn't much to do now but wait until they arrived at their destination, which, as Cap said, was likely to take at least an hour. He had almost forgotten that Donny was there, until the boy groaned pitifully. "Are you all right, Donny?"

"Mngh...I don't feel so good..."

Oh, wonderful.

Before Jaming could ask Cap if he had anymore motion sickness pills, poor Donny was leaning over the side. Jaming made a face and gave Donny a sympathetic pat on the back before waving Cap over.

"Well," the old sailor smiled wryly as he approached, "That's one."

Jaming muttered out of the corner of his mouth, hoping that Donny wouldn't hear, but he needn't have bothered. The boy was quite occupied at the moment! "Would you give him one of those pills, please? I'll have to move off before I join in..."

"Squeamish, are we?" laughed Cap.

"Extremely."

* * *

><p>No one was happier to disembark than Donny, but he forgot all about his physical discomfort when he saw the wreck of Jaming's old floating platform. "Whoa! That thing is sooo <em>cool!<em> You mean you actually _made_ that?"

"I did," Jaming said with a hint of pride. "But don't get too close just yet. If it still has a charge, you could get shocked."

One of the vendors looked confused. "How are we supposed to get that thing on board if we're not supposed to touch it?"

"Once I've checked it and disconnected the power source, it will be quite safe to handle it," Jaming explained, pulling on a thick pair of industrial rubber gloves to act as insulation against electrical shock. "Just give me a moment."

Meredith came up behind Donny and offered him a peppermint to take the nasty taste out of his mouth. "Feeling any better?"

Blushing, Donny took the piece of candy from her and nodded. "Yep. That pill worked pretty fast. Um...'preciate it if you wouldn't mention this to Pau, okay? I'll never hear the end of it if he finds out!"

"Promise."

Jaming disconnected a few wires and withdrew a waterlogged battery, which was quite dead after all this time. Nearly eight months had passed since he had left it behind on that beach. Aside from being covered in seagull droppings, which Jaming sneered at as soon as he noticed, the platform was in no worse shape than before. "It's safe. Now, it's going to be heavy, so I'll need as many of you as possible. Whoever can fit in and get a handhold."

"You're not going to help lift the thing?" Cap demanded.

"Of course I am. But I can't very well do it alone."

After they had gotten it on board and set off for Veniccio once more, something occurred to Meredith. "Jaming, how are you going to get it into the garage? It won't fit through the door, and we can't lift it down through the roof..."

Jaming's eyes widened, and he stared at the platform as he realized he hadn't thought of that. "_Blast _it..."

"Y'all can stash it at my place," Donny offered, and it was unclear if his offer was completely selfless.

Jaming scratched his head as he pondered the matter, and he could come to only one conclusion. "It endured the weather _this _long. I suppose I can keep it just outside the garage. I have a few plastic tarps; that should keep the rain from doing any further damage. I suppose I'll just have to make do."

"Well," Cap shrugged, no longer interested in the platform now that they had it, "mission accomplished, eh?"

"Indeed," Jaming nodded, turning to Cap and saying something that really included everyone on that boat. "Thank you for your help. I couldn't have done it without the use of your boat. Or everyone's consent."

There was a chorus of good-natured replies of 'no problem', 'you're welcome', and 'sure', and Jaming had to admit that he felt pretty good!


	29. Chapter 29: Portrait's Request

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 29: Portrait's Request"

"Blasted seagulls and their 'gifts from above'," grumbled Jaming as he scrubbed the exterior of his second to last platform. The stuff was like cement! "I may need a chisel for this, or perhaps some kind of industrial solvent..."

"Excuse me," inquired a soft voice about ten feet behind him.

Jaming hadn't heard the woman's approach, but given who it was, this was hardly a surprise. The person behind him was _always_ quiet. He turned to face her, his expression a little less guarded than usual. "Ah, Julia. More problems with your vacuum?"

Julia shook her head, smiling self-consciously. "No, it's working perfectly. May I ask you a question?"

"I believe you just did," Jaming replied, taking off his rubber gloves, all the while being careful not to let his skin come in contact with the outsides. As sometimes happened, his little jest fell short. Julia lowered her eyes and seemed a bit hurt. "Small joke. What do you wish to ask me?"

Julia looked up again, and she seemed to have lost some of her nerve. She held something strange in her hands. It looked like a paintbrush with dried gold paint on the bristles. Seeming to come to a decision, she rolled the brush between her fingers and forged ahead with her question. "Do you know anything about magic gold paint?"

Now Jaming was intrigued, and he came over for a better look. "I never knew there _was_ such a thing. What does it do?"

She held out the paintbrush and he took it without hesitation, and she lowered her eyes. "Legend has it that when it is applied to a portrait, that portrait will 'come to life'."

Naturally, Jaming was very skeptical of her claims. "That's a very interesting legend, but what does it have to do with me?"

"I'm afraid it's more than just a legend..."

Jaming looked up from the paintbrush at the note of genuine heartache he heard in her voice, and he frowned. Julia was one of the few people in town who had never annoyed him, and though he had little to do with her, he hated to see her looking so sad. "Julia...Is something wrong?"

She nodded slowly, looking down at her folded hands. "Something has been wrong for quite a while. You see...I'm not like everyone else here."

Given the subject of their conversation, it only took Jaming a second or two to deduce the young woman's meaning, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet and gentle. "Are you telling me that _you_ are a painting?"

There were tears standing in Julia's eyes as she nodded, and Jaming internally panicked at the thought of this woman breaking down, but she didn't. "I am one half of a painting. The other half wasn't brought through, and there was a reason for that. Have you ever heard of an artist by the name of Parn?"

"Yes, Meredith told me about him. Though, in all honesty, he strikes me as being something of a twit." Then Jaming bit his tongue. The rest of what Meredith told him flitted through his mind a little too late. Parn. And Julia. _Damn._ "Er...that is..."

But Julia laughed sadly and nodded. "He certainly _could_ be. I'll summarize, shall I? Parn painted a portrait of himself and a woman he called 'Julia'. That's me. He agreed to join Max on a quest. That's another story..."

Jaming was hardly surprised, and he let her know they were on the same page without giving away too much of his own past. "I'm aware of his quest. And I take it that this agreement came with the stipulation that Max would do something for him in return? Something like bringing him magic paint so that he could give life to his dream lady?"

Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was a perfect 'o' as she nodded. "Why, yes! But how did you know that?"

"Simple logic," he shrugged, "Based on everything you told me, it all fits. Although, I fail to understand what you would need from _me..._"

Julia's folded hands grew white at the knuckles, and she looked away. "When I stepped off of that canvas, I left behind a life...and a love. I don't know if I came into being here with false memories, or if there is really another world on the other side. But whatever happens to be the case, the Parn on the other side of the canvas is not like the one who lives in _this_ world. We were engaged to be married. And, well...as you might be able to imagine, there was quite a lot of confusion on my part when I appeared here and saw the mirror image of my fiancé standing there. And one thing led to another..."

Jaming blushed and cleared his throat. "I see."

Julia, also blushing, murmured an apology. "I'm sorry. But to make a long story short, the Parn of this world quickly grew bored and cast me aside. The last I heard of him, he was working on a new painting to replace me."

Jaming shook his head, completely unable to understand Parn's actions. He thought of Meredith, and he wondered if _she_ would ever grow bored of _him_. The thought wasn't at all pleasant, and he banished it from his mind. Julia was a good woman. She did not deserve this! "I am so sorry, Julia. But I'm still confused as to where I come in."

She looked up at him, determination finally reaching her face. "I want to go home. I want to go back to _my_ Parn. If there is a way to reverse the effects of the paint and put me back in that painting, I can't think of anyone else who would be able to find it."

"_Me?_ Julia, I'm afraid my field is technology, not magic. I'm not sure if I _can._"

"I'm prepared for that outcome," She looked him steadily in the eye. "I only ask you to _try._ I know you do more than just fix things. That platform over there once floated on the air, if you were telling the truth. I came to you because I think you're the only person here who might have a chance at making this happen...and because you know what it's like to be in love. If someone wrenched you or Meredith from this world and into another, wouldn't you want to find her again?"

Jaming looked down at the paintbrush again. He put himself in Julia's position. He imagined himself in a new world full of strangers without Meredith there to keep him grounded. He could _function_, yes. But would he even _want _to? Sighing softly through his nose, Jaming nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

_Note:__ Julia is one of those characters who has no set place in the Georama. You can even leave her on the train if you want to. I just always put her in Veniccio for some reason. I'm on the fence about whether or not Jaming will actually succeed here!_


	30. Chapter 30: A Golden Dilemma

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ Implied sexy times later in the chapter, but nothing explicit. Sorry, I know you're very disappointed. XD_

"Chapter 30: A Golden Dilemma"

"Hmm...Just what is so remarkable about _you_, eh?"

Jaming sat on the edge of his work table as he studied the paintbrush. The bristles were stiff and coated with dried gold paint, which seemed to him to be of the egg tempera variety. It simply looked like ordinary paint, but as Meredith had often told him, looks were only looks. He reached up and manually adjusted his monocle to its highest magnification and peered through it, shutting his other eye for better focus.

Horse hair bristles, matted together in shimmering golden clumps. There _was _something odd about the paint, but Jaming found it hard to pinpoint. His hand was steadier than most, but that didn't mean he could hold perfectly still without the slightest twitch, and he needed the brush to be absolutely stationary. He set it down on the table and leaned in closer, careful not to block the light.

_Light._

The light bulb above him was not moving at all, and yet the paint flickered slightly, throwing off tiny pinpoints of light as if the light source or the brush were still moving. Fascinating, to be sure, but it still didn't tell him much.

"Perhaps a closer inspection is in order..." Jaming sat up and slid off the edge of the table, quickly crossing his garage to retrieve a microscope from one of his many cabinets. He scraped the tiniest of paint samples onto a glass slide, noticing how easily the paint flecked off of the bristles. He removed his monocle and sat down to look through the eyepiece.

No matter how much he magnified the slide, it was the same. It reflected the light in the same way that a moving object would, despite being completely motionless, but beyond that there was nothing to be gleaned from the sample.

Jaming sat back and folded his arms, disappointed, and he lapsed into his old habit of talking to himself. "The paint is _dry._ If I had a fresh sample I might be able to get somewhere, but _this?_ It's worthless."

He filed the slide away for further study, just in case, and carefully bagged and tagged the brush for the same purpose.

"I shall just have to go and get some, then." He put his microscope away, then leaned against the wall with a frown. "The trouble is...I have no idea where to look. Or _when,_ for that matter, because one never knows!"

He lightly kicked the table leg in a fit of pique, then sat down again and put his head in his hands as he racked his brain for a solution. "Think, Jaming...What did you learn about magic when you were in Griffon's employ?"

Very little, it turned out. Magic was more Gaspard's sort of thing, and his was just the attack variety. Hardly useful in this case, and besides, Gaspard was dead.

"Why did I agree to this? I don't know _anything_ about magic!" Jaming finally got up and went off to take a shower. He was supposed to meet Meredith for dinner that evening, and after spending the afternoon scrubbing seagull droppings from his platform, he wasn't about to just show up as he was!

* * *

><p>They were both getting a little tired of fish, so Jaming had managed to get his hands on some pasta as a special treat, but as he sat with Meredith at her tree house table, he found that he couldn't properly enjoy it. When work was on his mind, he was never able to relax. The gold paint and his promise to Julia was a unique problem, and already he regretted his involvement!<p>

Meredith noticed that he was mostly pushing his food around on his plate instead of eating it, and beyond his greeting he hadn't really said much at all. "Something on your mind?"

"There's _always _something on my mind," he replied, twirling some noodles around his fork before letting them fall off again. They made a soft 'splat' as they struck the Alfredo sauce. "It's getting my mind to _shut down _that's the problem..."

"Is it something I can help with?" she asked, wiping her mouth with her napkin.

"I...I don't know," he admitted, pushing his plate away and getting up. He walked over to the window and looked out. "Did you know that Julia wasn't born like the rest of us?"

"Huh?" That question definitely struck her as odd!

"When she showed up in Palm Brinks, how was she introduced?" Jaming had clasped his hands behind his back, and he still hadn't looked back at her.

"For the most part, she wasn't. Parn told a few people she was his new wife, but he never mentioned where she came from. Since the Blackstone One had just reopened, I think most of us just assumed she was from out of town, and that they'd had a quickie wedding for whatever reason. But what do you mean she wasn't born like the rest of us?"

Jaming sighed and sat back down at the table. "This is going to sound fantastic..."

"More fantastic than time travel and evil wizards?" She quirked a brow. "If I can believe that, I can probably believe this."

He nodded, smiling a little. "Julia was originally a painting. Parn acquired some magic paint, and he used it to bring her to life."

Meredith remained silent, and she didn't appear as surprised as Jaming thought she would be.

"Their relationship didn't last, as we know. And now..." Jaming drained his wine glass and folded his arms. "Julia wants me to help her get back into the painting. Somehow."

_Now _Meredith appeared shocked. "That's a pretty tall order."

He nodded slowly. "It is. And I'm not sure if I _can._ She left the brush Parn used, coated in dried paint. I studied it for a bit, and there _is_ something unique about it, but I believe the sample is too degraded for a proper analysis. It's _dry._ And I've no idea where to find a fresh one. Until today, I never even knew of its existence."

Meredith got up and placed her empty plate in the sink, and she refilled their wine glasses when she came back to the table. "You really want to help her, don't you?"

Jaming sighed and rubbed his temples. "If you could have seen her face, Meredith...To be ripped from everything she knew, to be used as she was, and to be cast aside so cruelly! Who _wouldn't _want to go back home?"

"_I_ sure would!" Meredith said fervently.

"As would I. The trouble is, I don't know how to do it. And if I somehow _did_ figure it out, what then? She has memories of a world beyond the canvas, but what if it doesn't truly exist? If that happened to be the case, and I went through with it, wouldn't I be helping her to commit suicide?" He rubbed his face, the stress of his moral dilemma in addition to the paint puzzle clearly wearing on him. "I don't know what to do, Meredith..."

She reached over and lightly rubbed the back of his neck. The muscles were stiff with tension beneath her hand. "It would be nice if life came with an instruction manual, huh?"

"Wouldn't it, though?" He sighed, "No moral dilemmas, no uncertainty. No surprises, either."

"Mm, that last one...Sometimes we _need _surprises. To liven things up when they get boring, or to give us a boot in the butt when we start goofing off too much."

He snickered a bit and finally lowered his hands. "I'm afraid I've lost my appetite...I'm sorry."

Meredith snorted as she began to use both hands to gently knead the places where his neck and shoulders met. "_Parn's _the one who should be sorry, the jackass..."

Speaking of surprises, whatever she was doing to his neck came as a rather pleasant one. He felt his neck muscles slowly becoming more relaxed, almost to the point of being pliable, and he sighed deeply as he leaned back and into her touch. "You've never done _that_ before..."

"What?"

"What you're doing to my neck."

There was a soft, mischievous giggle, and she said very close to his ear, "Was I doing something to your neck?"

"You _know _you were. Well, _are_." He noted with detached clinical interest that his arms had broken out in goosebumps, and this was his last logical thought.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"_No..._"

* * *

><p>Later that night as they lay beneath Meredith's bedspread, Jaming's mind was ticking along once more. He knew it was, because Meredith claimed she could hear it. He reached up to affectionately clasp her hand, which rested on his bare blue chest. "I'm sorry...My mind keeps going back to the paint."<p>

Meredith closed her eyes and chuckled softly. "I see even lovemaking doesn't distract you for long."

"More's the pity!" he chuckled back, nuzzling her hair. "A very nice distraction it is, though."

"Mm..." she murmured in agreement, then stifled a yawn. It was getting late! "Do you want to spend the night?"

"If you'll have me."

"I thought I just did." She smirked, then laughed as he playfully threw her hand off of his chest. She quickly put it back, then grew serious as something occurred to her. "You know...Morton's Sundries in Palm Brinks carries gold paint from time to time. I'm not sure if it's the magic kind or if it's plan old regular paint, but I do know that it didn't show up in the shop until Max left town and all of _this_ started."

"Really? Hm...That is something to consider..." Jaming mused. He was reluctant to go to Palm Brinks at all, though, especially after learning what he now knew about Meredith's issues with her past and with her mother. He knew she wasn't ready to revisit those issues, still so fresh, and if he showed up without her it might cause even more mother/daughter friction. Sarah was sure to know he was there, because he didn't exactly blend in!

He could just go and ask Crest about the paint, except for the simple fact that Crest was _dead!_ Even if the young girl who seemed to be his apprentice had the wisdom to tell him about the paint's properties and whether or not there was a way to reverse them, how could Jaming dare to approach her?

Still, it made more sense to go directly to a source of wisdom, as young as the girl was. He _had_ to try, for Julia's sake and for the sake of his own conscience. Oh, but it would not be easy! "Balance Valley might have the answer..." he murmured finally.

"Balance Valley?"

"But it may be unattainable..." Now _he _stifled a yawn. It _had_ to be after eleven!

"Why would it be...oh," Meredith frowned. Of course. Jaming had been there before, and had taken part in the attempted destruction of the Lighthouse containing the Moon Crystal, and had helped to cause the death of the one person who might know the answer to his question.

"Yes...I believe he had an apprentice," Jaming was sounding more despondent all the time. "A young girl, one no older than fifteen from what I could see. And _she_ probably saw _me._ We weren't that far away. She has absolutely no reason to talk to me. And why should she?"

"Well," Meredith said slowly, nestling closer, "what if _I _talked to her instead? She hasn't seen _me,_ and it's for a good friend of ours."

_A good friend..._

Yes, Julia certainly was. And he had promised to at least _try_.

Slipping an arm behind his head and under his pillow, Jaming nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe..."


	31. Chapter 31: To Balance Valley!

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 31: To Balance Valley!"

During the course of the next week, Jaming waffled back and forth between whether or not to 'let' Meredith come along with him to Balance Valley. He knew that there was little he could do to stop her, short of sneaking off on a day other than the one he'd had in mind, and for the briefest of moments he actually _did_ consider that. Then he scolded himself for it, because not only would it be incredibly spineless and cowardly for him to do that, it would also damage her trust in him.

He finally decided not to fight her in this, because there was little point, and besides, he would miss her. It would be easier to leave Veniccio if he didn't have to leave her behind. And anyway, it wasn't as if they would be going into Starlight Canyon!

It was finally agreed that they would meet at the Veniccio Station on a Monday morning, and when that day came Jaming found himself sitting alone on one of the benches. The morning was a bit cooler than usual, and he welcomed the change. He wasn't really worried about whether or not Meredith would show up until he looked at his wristwatch and saw that it was getting late.

People were boarding the train now, and soon all of the good seats would be taken. What if Meredith didn't show up? That might almost be a relief, except that _he_ would be too worried about whether or not she was ill to actually get on the train himself. It wasn't like her to just not show up!

Ten minutes to go. Jaming got up and paced, ignoring the annoyed looks from the few people who had to veer a whole half-foot to one side to walk around him.

_'Maybe I should just go and check on her, and go to Balance Valley some other time. I'm not very keen to go there anyway.'_

Five minutes. And, off in the distance, he spotted Meredith running full-tilt, her ponytail streaming behind her like a reddish-brown pennant. He walked down the ramp to meet her, and when she stumbled to a stop he braced her shoulders. "Whoa! You didn't have to run."

She fought to catch her breath, and she was smiling self-consciously as she adjusted her backpack. "Sorry! I overslept."

"Quite all right," he assured her, smiling as she kissed his cheek. "We have a few minutes. Is that all you're bringing?"

"Well, I usually travel light. We'll only be a couple days, according to you."

They boarded the train together, and Jaming frowned when he saw that she truly looked exhausted. She was doing a good job of hiding it, but the circles under her eyes spoke volumes.

"If all goes well, of course," he pointed out before asking, "Do you prefer aisle or window?"

"Window, if that's all right with you."

"It's fine," he replied, and he waited for her to be seated before sitting down himself. He frowned again when she opened the window a crack. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I'm just tired. Which doesn't make any sense, because I slept straight through," She covered her mouth and yawned as if to demonstrate. "M'sorry. You don't mind if I take a nap, do you?"

"Mind? I _envy_ you. These train rides are rumored to be boring, and you get to sleep right through it." He smirked and put an arm around her so that she could lean on him. She was out in a matter of minutes, and he looked over the top of her head and out the window.

A lady across the aisle who had just sat down watched them with some concern before asking, "Is your wife okay, sir?"

_'Wife?'_

Jaming glanced around to see who else the lady was talking to, then realized she was addressing _him._ "Oh! Yes...She didn't sleep well. Thank you for your concern."

This was a lie, but he was so flustered by the use of the word 'wife' that he needed a quick way to end the conversation. He didn't correct the lady, though, and he lapsed into deep thought as the woman took out a book and proceeded to ignore him.

_'Hm. _Wife_. Yes, of course, _someday_ I plan to ask her. But I would have expected to have to correct strangers from the opposite thought. Everyone who finds out we're together is rather insultingly surprised. This is a first! Being mistaken for man and wife. If she'd even say yes...It's a little too soon for that question, and the last thing I want to do is spook her!'_

* * *

><p>Jaming exited the train with Meredith, who now seemed much better. Balance Valley Station was odd in that the train tracks went through a cave, which was lit by torches and blessedly free of monsters. The passengers would have to cross a natural rock bridge. As much (or, rather, as little) as some of the tourists were paying attention to their own safety as they took in the scenery, Jaming thought that it was definitely a good thing that someone had put some thought into the station's design and added safety railings.<p>

He and Meredith climbed the stairs, which had been cut directly into the rocky floor, and they shielded their eyes against the sunlight as they emerged from the cave. Jaming was _very _uncomfortable to be there, more so than he thought he would be. He felt like a gargoyle that had come down from the roof of a dilapidated church to walk among the people who had a _right_ to be there, and for once it had nothing to do with how different he looked.

Meredith stared out over the plateaus, still shading her eyes from the sun. "It's beautiful here."

_'You should have seen it before,'_ he thought as he stood beside her with his hands grasping the straps of his backpack, _'It was nothing grand, but it wasn't as pathetic as this.'_

She looked over at him when he remained silent, and she saw at once how grim he looked. Knowing the reason why, she didn't ask him if he was okay. "We should find a place to stay before we do anything else."

"Or somebody who can direct us to one," he agreed, seeming to snap out of it. "Look, there's a little house over there. Let's try there first."

The voice that answered Jaming's knock was grumpy and less than welcoming. "Hoo! Hoo! I told you before, Lin is isn't here! Go away!"

"Hmph, rude..." Jaming muttered, folding his arms.

"Sorry for disturbing you," Meredith called through the door, "but we're not looking for anyone named Lin. We just want to-"

"Bah, you'll have to come in and say it. I can't hear you clearly."

Meredith raised an eyebrow and whispered to Jaming, "I could hear _him_ plain as day..."

"Yes," Jaming whispered back, "He does sound rather elderly, though. Perhaps his ears are going bad."

"Are you coming in, or not?" the voice demanded crossly.

Jaming opened the door and he and Meredith walked in, expecting to see an older gentleman sitting inside. Instead, the house was empty of inhabitants, save for a large owl who sat on a perch near an empty bed.

Jaming frowned in confusion and stood a little bit in front of Meredith, holding up a hand for her to wait as his eyes scanned the room for signs of an ambush. The house seemed to be deserted, save for that owl, whose eerily intelligent eyes glared at them with what could only be called disapproval.

Meredith didn't seem surprised at all, however, and gently pushed Jaming's hand down. "I think it's okay. Um...Mr. Owl, are you the one who was talking to us before?"

Jaming gave her an odd sort of look, but this expression was replaced with one of pure shock when the owl ruffled its feathers and actually _answered_ her. Not in hoots, but with words.

"I am called Argo, young woman. And I would appreciate it if you got straight to the point. You've disturbed my afternoon nap, and you are the third party to do so today." Argo the owl sounded marginally less annoyed, as if her respectful mode of speaking had mollified him somewhat.

"We're terribly sorry about that, Argo. We won't take long. We were just hoping that you might know where we could find a room for a few nights."

"Hoo, certainly. There is an inn on the fourth plateau. If that is full, you might try the church. Aren't you going to introduce yourselves, then?" Argo gave his wings a soft flap.

Jaming cleared his throat, finally having gotten over the shock of seeing a talking owl. "How rude of us. I am called Jaming. And this is Meredith. I might have some questions for you later, if you are willing to answer them. When would be a good time for me to stop by?"

"After dark is best," replied the owl, "I often wonder how you humans would like it if I tapped on your windows while you slept at night."

Jaming knew exactly how _he_ would react. He would most likely open his window and throw one of his shoes at Argo for disturbing his rest! Put into perspective like that, Argo's unfriendly conduct made perfect sense. "In that case, you were far more polite than _I_ would have been. We'll let you get back to sleep now."

As soon as they were outside, Jaming demanded in a whisper, "How did you know?"

"Know what? That he could talk?" Meredith smiled when Jaming nodded, and explained. "There's an owl in Palm Brinks who looks just like him. That one actually judges the Fishing Contest, and I think he also judges the Finny Frenzy. I don't think I've ever seen you jump that high."

"Oh, be quiet..."

_Note:__ Okay, I know that there are no inns in Balance Valley, or anywhere else in the game. However, I decided to take a bit of creative license here._


	32. Chapter 32: Jealousy and Horseplay

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 32: Jealousy and Horseplay"

After securing a room for themselves at the inn, Jaming and Meredith decided to visit the different plateaus to pass the time. After the heat of Veniccio, the Valley felt rather chilly in comparison, though Jaming found the change to be refreshing. As much as he loved Veniccio for its isolated location and its natural beauty, he wasn't made for hot climates.

Meredith seemed to be having a more difficult time, however. She wasn't shivering, but she kept hugging herself and rubbing her bare forearms. She never complained, but she was quite obviously cold.

"Here," Jaming removed his coat and draped it around her shoulders, "You need this more than I do."

"Aw, thank you. But won't _you_ be cold?" she asked him, looking very unsure.

"No, it feels just right to me. You take it, I'll be fine."

She slipped her arms into the sleeves, which were a tiny bit loose on her. "Where should we go first?"

"I think we should eat," Jaming told her, pointing to a food stand on one of the other plateaus where a large man in a chef's hat was selling pork dumplings and what appeared to be chicken legs. "Breakfast was hours ago, and the wind keeps blowing the smell over here."

"That sounds..." Meredith looked a little past Jaming blinked. "So_ this_ is where he went."

"Hm?" Jaming turned to look, and he spotted a tall skinny man with a funny-looking hat and a scraggly, goat-like beard. Of course, he didn't recognize him. "Who is that?"

"That's Parn. Julia's ex."

"Hm..." Jaming looked speculatively at the artist, then dismissed him with a shrug. "Well, if you want to go say hello, be my guest."

"We never really spoke, so I don't see the-oh Gods, he's coming over..." Meredith's voice dipped down to an almost alarmed whisper.

Jaming had noticed that, like him, Meredith occasionally had unsocial tendencies, but he had never known her to show such social anxiety. He knew it was ridiculous, but he had to wonder if it was because of him and his blue skin and odd teeth. Or, far more likely, perhaps Parn was the one she had been interested in when she was younger. The rush of territorial jealousy that came over him was so powerful that it almost frightened him. He never saw Meredith as _belonging_ to him, but the thought of this skinny womanizer being an object of interest for her made him absolutely sick.

_'Push those thoughts away,'_ he told himself, _'They will do nothing but poison what you have.'_

Parn had now come within speaking distance, and Jaming glanced at Meredith to see how she was taking this. Her mood appeared to be completely neutral, but she was squeezing his hand almost hard enough to hurt.

"Meredith? Is that you?" Parn was grinning in a friendly enough manner, but his next question made Meredith's returning smile rather tense. "What happened to your glasses?"

"Oh, gone but not forgotten. Parn, this is my boyfr-"

Jaming reached out and seized Parn's hand in a firm handshake. "Dr. Jaming. It's a pleasure to meet one of Meredith's old school chums!"

Parn grimaced as if he had been forced to touch some slimy dead thing. Jaming smiled broadly, seemingly oblivious to Parn's discomfort.

Meredith, who knew Jaming better than anyone, knew that this was _way_ out of character for him. His behavior was bordering on rude. She gave him a Significant Look, and he took the hint and dropped Parn's hand.

"_Boyfriend,_ you say?" Parn raised an eyebrow at Meredith as if to say, _'Boy, have you ever lowered _your _standards'_.

"That's right. Excuse us, will you?" Meredith nudged Jaming, and they began to disengage from the conversation.

"Wait, I wanted to ask you about something," Parn reached out to put a hand on Meredith's arm, but she casually side-stepped it before turning to face the artist.

Jaming tensed up, but kept his face perfectly blank. He put his arm almost protectively around Meredith's shoulders, letting her know that he was there, and letting _Parn _know that she was off-limits.

"I don't mean to be rude, but we're kind of in a hurry; we haven't eaten yet, you see." Meredith explained, hoping that Parn would pick up on the fact that they really didn't want to chat.

"This won't take long. Have you seen or heard from Julia lately? She mentioned going to Veniccio."

Parn's question took them by surprise. Jaming looked over at Meredith, and she looked back at him. He was liking Parn less and less, and if her frown was anything to go by, so was she.

"She's doing well," Meredith finally replied, unwilling to say too much. She had always thought that Parn was a little weird, but harmless. And, for the most part, he was. There was just that little matter of a painting brought to life, and his inability to view Julia as an actual person with her own wants, needs, and desires. Julia was Meredith's friend. Jaming's too, to a much smaller extent. And Parn had treated her like garbage.

"I see," Parn looked thoughtful. "Maybe I'll visit her sometime, just to say hello. Until then, give her my best."

"Okay," Meredith watched Parn go, her cheeks reddening in a tell-tale sign of suppressed temper that Jaming knew all too well at this point.

Jaming whispered in her ear, "His best _what?_"

Meredith rolled her eyes as they headed for Ferdinand's food cart. "We'll have to give Julia a heads-up when we get back. And what was that handshake thing all about?"

Jaming gave a rather evil chuckle. "Just a bit of harmless fun, my dear."

After they had gotten their lunch, they sat on the grass to enjoy it, and Jaming couldn't shake a disturbing thought from his mind. He stared down at the uneven bite he had taken out of a pork dumpling, rather than at his girlfriend's face. "I have to ask you something."

"Hm?" Meredith looked up from her chicken.

"About Parn...Was _he_ the one? You know, from when you were younger..." His face grew hot, and he popped the rest of the dumpling into his mouth and nearly choked on it.

Meredith pounded him on the back a few times as he coughed. "Are you kidding me? _That's_ why you were all 'my woman, hands off'?"

"No!" Jaming snapped defensively, still not looking at her. "I just wondered..."

"Nah," Meredith seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh. "He wasn't my type. And even if I _had _been interested in him way back when, I sure wouldn't be _now._"

"Ah..." Jaming used his napkin before folding it up and putting it into his pocket. "So...what exactly _is_ your 'type'?"

"Are we fishing for compliments, now?" She threw her chicken bone into a nearby trash can.

"No, just...wondering."

"Well," Meredith sat back down beside him, still wearing his coat. "Until this past year, I didn't even know I _had _a type. But let me tell you about this guy I like. He's got a real flair for building things. He's _very _intelligent. And, once you've really gotten to know him, he can be very sweet."

Jaming looked down bashfully and rubbed his forehead. "Thank you, Meredith..."

"And he snores." She reached behind him, gave his butt a really good goose, then got up and ran off with a taunting snicker.

Jaming's head snapped up as he gaped at her, and the next minute he was chasing her down so that he could catch and tickle her as 'punishment', laughing just as hard as she was. "Why you little..."


	33. Chapter 33: Complications

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note: This week will probably be a busy one, so I'm not sure if I'll still be updating every other day or so like I have been. So much for once a week, eh? Anyway, I sort of wrote myself into a corner with this Balance Valley 'side quest', but I can write myself out of it again. I've got big plans for the next several chapters! If you make it to the end of this chapter, you'll probably guess what one of them is. ;)_

"Chapter 33: Complications"

_'Whoever thought that suspension bridges were a good idea probably never had to cross one at night!'_

Jaming carefully held onto the ropes as he stared straight ahead, doing his best to ignore the way an occasional breeze would cause the bridge he was on to sway. Intellectually, he knew that as long as he used the bridge correctly, he should be all right. The trouble was that the feeling of 'I am about to fall' was based on pure instinct, which had little to do with the rational mind.

_'Half-way there...not long now...'_

Meredith had chosen to stay behind, and Jaming thought she looked rather pale. When he mentioned this to her, she waved it off and said that it was nothing. He didn't quite believe her, but he agreed with her that turning in early was probably a good idea. He wondered if he shouldn't have insisted that she stayed behind, but he probably would have been wasting his breath.

Jaming nearly bit his tongue as the suspension bridge gave a jolt, and he realized that someone had begun to cross after him. Keeping a solid grip on the ropes, he turned his body enough so that he could look over his shoulder without experiencing too much vertigo, and he struggled to make out the approaching silhouette. "Meredith? Is that you?"

"No, sir," came a young female voice, and as the speaker got a little closer, Jaming could just make out that her hair was in pigtails. Meredith often wore her hair in a braid or a ponytail when it wasn't down, so even if the girl hadn't spoken, her outline would have told him enough. "I was just on my way home."

Belatedly, he realized that he was blocking her path, and he turned his eyes forward once more and crossed to the other side. He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as his boots made contact with the soft grass, and he moved aside so that the girl would be able to pass. There was only one house there, for this wasn't one of the four plateaus. Jaming deduced that the girl must live with the owl, and therefor they had the same destination. Well, this was awkward! He was sure to look suspicious.

Indeed, the girl had slowed to an uncertain walk, and she seemed ready to turn back. "Um..."

"I beg your pardon," Jaming moved a little further off in an effort to reassure her. "I didn't realize until now, but we're going to the same place. The owl that lives there...Argo is his name, I believe?"

"Yes, sir," The girl still seemed hesitant, but maybe a little less so. "What about him?"

"I had a question for him, but he told me to come back when it was dark. So...here I am." Jaming shrugged. "If I frightened you, I didn't mean to."

"You seem very familiar..." The girl came a bit closer, stepping off of the bridge and tilting her head.

As she stepped forward, Jaming took a few steps back. He didn't know exactly why, except that something in the back of his mind was telling him that he had missed something important. As he stepped back he entered the light of the torches, and she drew close enough to them for him to see her face.

Light purple pigtails, a little on the spiky side. A slight frame. Large eyes.

Eyes that slowly filled with a terror that he had seen once before, albeit from a distance.

_'No...'_

Jaming didn't know her name, but he knew who and what she was. This was Crest's young apprentice. This was the ward of the man he had murdered. He thought he was going to be sick!

"You..." The girl trembled as she took a step backwards. "You were there. You were on that ship..."

"I..." Jaming's voice failed him, and he simply stood there like an idiot.

The girl was backing away now, attempting to keep an eye on him and reach the bridge at the same time. She didn't know exactly where she intended to go. She only knew that she needed to get _away_ from this man immediately. If she had only watched where she was going instead of keeping her eyes on him, things might have ended very differently.

Jaming realized that she was going to miss the bridge and go over the edge. "Watch out!"

His sudden shout startled the girl, and she took one final step. Her foot made contact with nothing. She flailed her arms desperately, her breath catching in her throat so that she couldn't even scream.

And then a warm blue hand, bearing the calluses one got from working constantly with one's hands, clamped itself around one of her wrists and yanked her forward. The jaws of death would have to wait many, many years to claim the life of Lin.

Jaming guided the girl away from the edge, still holding onto her wrist, at least until she began to fight him. He let go, but not before taking a fist to the stomach. The girl couldn't hit very hard, but it still knocked the wind out of him. "Oof! A-all right, just-"

"You killed him! You _killed_ Master Crest! I-I _hate _you!" Lin was screaming, quickly becoming hysterical.

Jaming put up his hands to keep her from hitting his face, but that didn't stop her from hitting the rest of him. She beat her tiny fists against his chest and arms, and she even tried to knee him in the groin, but fortunately he was ready for something like that and twisted to avoid it.

Then, as abruptly as the attack began, it stopped. All of Lin's energy seemed to have left her, and she stared at the ground in front of her, crying almost silently.

Jaming cautiously lowered his hands, unable to absorb the full force of what had just happened. That was sure to come later, he knew. He took in the sight of her, and he knew that _he_ was the cause of her suffering. What could he possibly _say?_

"You _killed_ him..." Lin shook her head, "but you pulled _me_ away from the edge just now. _Why?_"

He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, but it didn't do much good. "Knowing what you know, would it matter what I told you?"

Lin glared up at him, her lip trembling in her rage and grief, and for the longest moment she said nothing at all. Then, stepping closer so that they would have been nose-to-nose if she were taller, she ground out, "I want you to leave this valley. Go. And _never _come back!"

And, without waiting for a reply, she turned and ran into the house. When the door opened momentarily, Jaming could hear Argo calling frantically for Lin, as he must have been doing while all this racket had been going on.

So much for questioning Argo. But then, Jaming already had the answer to the question of where Crest's apprentice might be found. Not that it would do any good!

Jaming turned away from the house and crossed the suspension bridges much more quickly than he had a few minutes ago.

Of _course_ the girl hated him! He had taken away someone who was very dear to her, and as much as he now wished he could do so, he could not bring her teacher and friend back to life. He knew he deserved every bit of the beating she had given him, and then some. He would probably have a few bruises later on, but he didn't care. So what if he pulled her away from the edge of the cliff? That didn't excuse his past wrongs, and he knew it!

* * *

><p>Meredith looked up from her book as the door opened, and even as she opened her mouth to comment that Jaming's meeting with Argo hadn't taken very long, the words died on her lips. He stood with his back leaning against the door, clenching and unclenching his hands as if he didn't know what to do with them. His face was as pale as she had ever seen it, and he looked like he was about to cry. She put her book down, got out of bed, and went over to him.<p>

Even as she crossed the room, he slid down the door and sat with his back against it. She saw his face twist with agony before he hid it from view, and she put her arms around him. "What happened?"

"We're leaving in the morning," Jaming said, haltingly, "Coming here was a mistake."

Jaming had told Meredith about what he feared would happen if Crest's former apprentice were to spot him there, and it didn't take her long to connect the dots. "Oh, Jaming...I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, wiping his face on his sleeve. "_You've _got nothing to be sorry for. I don't know what I was thinking of! Dragging you all this way, and for what? I...I wasted your time, and I put that girl through hell. _Twice_ now!"

Meredith frowned and put a hand to his cheek, turning his head so that he had to look at her. "Don't say that. You didn't 'drag' me anywhere. I _wanted_ to go with you."

"I _blew _it. Almost as soon as she saw me, she nearly went over the cliff."

Her eyes widened. "You mean she..."

"No, she wasn't going to jump, but she nearly fell when she backed away." He sniffed, looking away. "I know I promised Julia, but I...I just can't _do_ this. I made things so much worse by coming here."

Meredith lowered her hand from his face, placing it on his shoulder instead as her other arm remained draped around his shoulders. "Let me try talking to her."

Jaming shook his head. "No...Too much damage has been done already. Argo saw you with me. She won't listen to _you,_ either."

"You don't know that," Meredith told him, "He might not have mentioned me. And besides, you _did _make a promise to Julia. You still have a chance to keep it, slim as it might be."

Jaming was understandably less worried about his promise to Julia than he was about the harm he had done to Lin, even though he didn't know her name. "She'll never forgive me..."

Meredith lowered her eyes and settled into a more comfortable position. Whether or not Lin forgave Jaming was really her prerogative, and as much as Meredith loved him, she couldn't lie to him about that. "That's possible, Jaming. But if that turns out to be the case...you can live with that, can't you?"

Jaming choked softly, wiping his face on his sleeve again. He was trying so hard to keep it together, but it was so difficult. "I...I guess so..."

"Hey..." Meredith rubbed his shoulder. "Do you know what we're going to do?"

He shook his head without looking at her.

"We're going to do what we came here to do," she went on in a quiet, earnest voice, "I'm going to ask her about the gold paint. And, if it's possible, we're going to make things right. If it isn't possible, then we'll leave her in peace."

"I don't know if I can take this." He put his head in his hands, heartsick and immensely tired.

"You won't have to," she squeezed his hand, "Not alone, anyway. I'll take it with you."

He nodded, and after they sat in silence for a while, he got up and announced that he was going to get ready for bed.

As Meredith put her book on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed to wait for him, she decided that her news could wait for a more appropriate time.


	34. Chapter 34: Important Discussion

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ Kinda funny how Jaming always seems to jump to the very worst conclusions in this fic! I think he'd see himself as a realist, while others might view him as a pessimist._

"Chapter 34: Important Discussion"

Jaming remained awake for many hours that night, long after Meredith had fallen asleep. He didn't remember sleeping at all, but he knew that he must have because when he noticed that the sun was rising he had lost a large chunk of time. Also, Meredith was no longer in bed beside him. She was sitting at the dresser, munching on some crackers she must have brought with her. Yawning and rubbing his eyes in an almost childlike fashion, Jaming sat up and reached for his monocle.

Hearing the sheets rustle, Meredith looked over and swallowed a mouthful of cracker. "Morning. How'd you sleep?"

Jaming nodded to indicate that he had slept well, even though she could probably tell that he hadn't. He didn't want to cause her any worry, and he was ashamed of his behavior from the night before. Also, she was still a bit too pale for his liking, and he couldn't stop himself from asking her, "Meredith, are you _sure _you're not coming down with something? You really don't look well at all."

"I'm positive," She set aside her crackers and came over to lie on her side next to him.

She didn't kiss him as she usually did, and Jaming tried to lighten the mood by making a playful comment. "What, no kiss today?"

"Um...I just threw up." She avoided his gaze, and clicked her tongue in annoyance when he reached over and felt her forehead. "I'm _not_ sick. I'm just a little queasy."

Her forehead wasn't abnormally warm, but Jaming shook his head decisively. "That's it. We're going home as soon as we're dressed and packed."

"But-"

"Leave my bottom out of this," he smirked, tapping the tip of her nose with a finger.

She smiled a tad salaciously and replied, "Well, it _is_ very nice. But no, seriously, I'm _fine._"

"No. We can ask about the paint later, after you've gotten over whatever sort of illness you have." He furrowed his brow in thought, and muttered, "Unless I can get this room for a few more days."

Meredith could see that he was unmovable in this, and she shut her eyes and sighed. She had planned to come clean with him when they got back to Veniccio, because the last thing she wanted to do was add more stress to an already tense situation. She and Jaming had discussed the subject of children before, and they both agreed that they eventually wanted to have at least one, although he stated that he hoped that they resembled their mother.

The plan was to wait a couple years first, and even though they had been very careful for the most part, there _was _that first encounter when birth control was the very furthest thing from their minds! This was happening sooner than she had wanted, and she was almost afraid to tell him. Get the room for a few more days? Try seven months!

Jaming got out of bed and shuffled off to use the facilities while Meredith returned to her crackers and tried to get up the nerve to tell him. "I really think it would be better if we got this out of the way first," she said through the door while he brushed his teeth. "You're not doing yourself any favors by saving it for later."

He began to reply, but it was difficult to speak with a mouthful of foamy toothpaste. He leaned over and spat discreetly into the sink, rinsed out his mouth, and opened the door so that they could hear each other better while he shaved. He never grew very much facial hair, but what he _could _grow came in rather patchy, so he simply went clean-shaven. "Meredith, _please _don't argue with me on this. If it was the other way around, you would be drilling it into my head that I needed to stay in bed."

_'If it was the other way around, you'd probably have a coronary!'_ she thought. Knowing that he was right, though, she shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. If it was an illness like the flu. But it isn't."

Jaming turned to give her a strange look, one side of his 'beard area' scraped clean of stubble, and the other side fluffy with shaving cream. "So, you're sick, but you aren't? Meredith, what are you _talking _about?"

"Just...finish shaving first. I'm going to get dressed."

Jaming slowly shook his head, but did as he was told. He nicked his chin because now he was hurrying, but it didn't bleed much, and he quickly got it to stop. He came out of the bathroom, drying his face on a towel and smelling pleasantly of aftershave, and his expression told Meredith that he meant to get some answers from her. "I'm finished. What did you mean?"

She eyed him doubtfully, then sat down on the bed and patted the space beside her. "Better sit down for this one."

Jaming sat down beside her, dreading what he was about to hear. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Looking unsure how to answer that, Meredith slowly shook her head. "It's unexpected, is what it is...I'm really not sure how to say it. I wanted to wait until we got back to Veniccio. I guess I still could have done that, but this was so_ important _to you, and now you're going to leave without finishing what you came here to do, and I don't want to be the cause of it."

"Just _tell_ me," he tried to keep his voice calm and even, but his mind was jumping from one dreadful scenario to the next, each one was worse than the one before. What could possibly be wrong with her? "Whatever it is, I...we'll handle it. Just tell me."

Meredith raised her eyes to meet his, and there was a mixture of emotions on her face. The predominant one was fear. Would he be happy about this, or would it send him running for the hills screaming 'entrapment'? "We're going to have a baby."

Jaming was prepared (or as prepared as he _could_ be) for the worst, so he wasn't certain that he had heard her correctly. "What?"

"I'm pregnant. About two months, if I did the math right." Meredith was babbling now, as if speaking quickly could ever be any kind of damage control. "I wasn't sure at first. I've been late a few times in the past, but the doctor said it was due to stress. And, well, as you know, the past couple months _have _been very stressful. So, I thought that was what it was. But then I was late a second time, and I started feeling really tired. And today is the first time I've gotten sick, and I...Jaming? Are you-"

He was staring wide-eyed at her, his mouth slightly ajar...well, more so than it _usually_ was. _'Late...pregnant...two months...a child..._our_ child...I'm not ready...I'm...I'm...'_ He realized that he had forgotten to breathe, and he drew a deep breath and blinked twice. _'We're having a child. We're having a _baby!_ I'm going to be a _father!_'_

And then there was the sound of a door closing, accompanied by muffled weeping, and Jaming realized that he had mentally checked out for a minute and given Meredith the wrong idea. "Meredith?"

No answer. More quiet sobbing.

Jaming tried the doorknob, but it was locked. He knocked softly, and his voice held a gentleness that most people wouldn't expect to hear from him. "Meredith, open the door, please. It just caught me by surprise, that's all." He placed his palm against the door, fear and joy warring within him, and guilt for having upset her overshadowing both emotions. "Meredith...Please, let me in..."

He couldn't hear her crying anymore, and he wasn't sure what she was doing. Then there was a faint click as she unlocked the door, and he came in to find her sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He reached down, took her hands in his, and gently urged her to her feet. "A _baby..._"

"I'm sorry...I know this isn't how we planned for things to happen."

Jaming surprised her very much by bursting into laughter and seizing her in a fierce hug. "Sorry? Oh, Meredith, don't be ridiculous! This is _wonderful!_" When he let go of her, though, his smile faded. She looked terrified. An awful thought occurred to him, and he asked carefully, "Meredith...do you _want_ this baby?"

He held his breath as he waited for her answer, praying that it was a yes. This news was coming straight out of left field, but the more he thought about it the more _real_ it became. Inside her womb was a tiny person, one that the two of them had created. Before he knew Meredith, he had never even let himself _think_ about a future with a wife and children. And now, if she changed her mind...

But she nodded, finally smiling the tiniest bit. "Very much. But...I always thought children would come _later,_ and the _one_ time we're not careful..."

"Well, to be fair, we weren't exactly thinking rationally. Meredith...I'm not going anywhere. You're the one I want to be with. Don't be afraid to be happy about this! It might not be conventional, but since when were we conformists, eh?"

Meredith finally laughed, and wiped off a dollop of shaving cream that he had missed. "The day after never."

"Well, then...I suppose I should build an addition onto the garage. A house-sized one. Climbing those tree house ladders at nine months would probably be right up there on the list of bad ideas. Right above Donny's vinegar macaroons."


	35. Chapter 35: Wise Owl

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 35: Wise Owl"

Jaming and Meredith stepped out of the inn with no clear plans for the day. Meredith was all for visiting Lin's house alone and trying to smooth things over, but Jaming just wanted a few moments to figure things out. There was simply too much going on; Lin had seen him, had nearly plunged to her death, had attacked him after he pulled her to safety, and now he learned that Meredith was pregnant. When would he get a moment to breathe?

As he saw a large owl sitting on the iron fence around a nearby building, he realized that the answer was 'not yet'.

Meredith spotted Argo just as Jaming did, and they both instinctively stopped in their tracks.

The bird had clearly been staking out the inn, waiting for them to emerge. As soon as he caught their eyes, he fluffed his feathers and called out to them. "It's about time you two got up. I thought it was _my_ kind that slept during the day. I want a word with you, young man."

Jaming lowered his eyes like a guilty child, then caught himself doing that and put on his poker face. He took Meredith's hand, and the two of them began to approach until Argo shook his head. "Just you, if you don't mind."

Meredith didn't seem to like that at all, and she folded her arms. "No girls allowed?"

"You weren't on the warship, I presume, unless you were below deck. _Were_ you?" Argo turned his head and looked piercingly at her.

She hesitated, and Jaming realized that she was thinking about lying and saying that she had been. He shook his head. She had told him that she would take it with him, but he couldn't let her incriminate herself when she was completely innocent. As it turned out, though, he didn't have to speak. She finally gave a reluctant reply. "No."

"She and I didn't meet until later on," Jaming explained, putting his arm around her shoulders.

Argo noticed this, saw the way she leaned into the embrace, and he rustled his wings a bit. "So, you two are a bonded pair, then? Hm. Well, all right. Then this is for your ears, too. But let us get out of this dreadful sun. It hurts my eyes."

"Of course," Jaming agreed. "Where to?"

"Come to the house," Argo hopped down from the fence and walked with a rather pigeon-toed gait to the edge of the plateau. "We have much to talk about."

And with that, Argo spread his wings and gracefully took to the air. Jaming watched him go, then shut his eyes. "Meredith...I don't think you're going to like what you're probably about to hear in that house."

She looked at him and slipped her arm around his waist. His stress was plainly visible in the frown lines between his eyebrows and at the corners of his mouth, and there was little she could do to lessen his burden. "This could be a _good_ thing, though."

"I don't see how," he said morosely as they headed for the bridge. "He probably just wants to avoid making a public scene. And he might have a go at _you;_ I don't want that. Especially not _now,_ with a baby on the way..."

"Pff!" Meredith snorted, crossing the bridge behind him. "I'm pregnant; I'm not made of glass. And I don't think that's what he has in mind. The body language was all wrong for that. If he does, I can take it."

Jaming said nothing. He wasn't as confident as she was that everything would be all right, but he was glad she was with him, and he wouldn't have to go in there alone. All the same, he wished that they had never come!

* * *

><p>They arrived at the house to find that Argo was nowhere in sight, but one of the windows was open. That must have been how the owl had gotten out, unless he was able to use his feet as hands and turn a doorknob. Jaming neither knew nor cared, and since they were expected, he simply opened the door and let himself and Meredith into the house. As he expected, Argo was already inside, sitting on his perch.<p>

"Well...here we are," Jaming shut the door behind them and tucked his hands into his pockets. "Before you say anything, I want you to know she had nothing to do with anything that happened at the Lighthouse. I'm...I'm asking you not to accuse her by association."

Argo flapped his wings impatiently and shook his head. "Hoo! Don't be a nincompoop. I brought you here because of last night. I know _your_ crimes, at least some of them, and I know that Lin didn't see this other one...I'm sorry, what was your name, young lady?"

"It's Meredith," She told him, discreetly giving Jaming's hand an encouraging squeeze. The poor man looked miserable!

"Meredith, yes. I shall try to remember. Jaming is easier to recall. Now, as I was saying," Argo pointed with one of his wings at a small table with two chairs in one corner of the room. "Please, be seated."

Jaming pulled out Meredith's chair for her, then sat down after she did. He was confused now, but he wasn't about to admit it. Why wasn't Argo yelling or attacking? It made no sense!

"Lin cried herself to sleep last night, you know." Argo's voice hardened now. It seemed that Jaming wasn't off the hook after all. "I tried to persuade her to forgo training today, but she insisted that she _needed _to go to the Lighthouse, today of all days. You tried to destroy the Moon Crystal, and when Crest rose up in defense of it, your ship ended _his_ life instead. You could have taken _Lin's_ life. You have a lot to answer for, Jaming."

Jaming felt a slow wave of nausea, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say, nor could he look at either Meredith or Argo.

"What I don't understand is why you're here _now._ Lin told me that you kept her from falling off the cliff last night, and that you wouldn't tell her why. Perhaps you will tell me." Argo waited expectantly.

"I..." Jaming took off his monocle and began to play with it. Long moments passed, and he simply couldn't find his voice.

Meredith watched him struggle with his answer, and she spoke up instead. "He's not with Emperor Griffon anymore."

"Is that so?"

Jaming put his monocle back on after wiping off the fingerprints, and mumbled, "Lin was going to fall, and I didn't have time to think. I just reacted. I...I'm sorry. For everything I've done, I'm sorry." Argo said nothing, and Jaming realized that a more detailed explanation was expected. He sighed and folded his hands on the table. "How I ended up working for Griffon is a long story, but the fact of the matter is, I was under orders to destroy the Moon Crystal. I didn't expect anyone to be in that Lighthouse, but...back then, I spent a lot of time ignoring my conscience, and yes, I did fire on the Lighthouse."

It was strange. One would expect that telling this story would get easier every time, but revisiting his crimes was like pressing one's tongue against a bad tooth to see if it still hurt. Of course it did! Jaming looked up as Meredith covered his folded hands with her own, and he drew strength from that. "I won't make any excuses for myself. I've hurt a lot of people, and I don't expect or deserve forgiveness. I...I'm an inventor who got involved with the wrong sort of people, and...and now I'm...I'm trying to make amends for the terrible things I've done. That's why I'm here."

Off came the monocle once more, and he rubbed his face as he fought back the tears.

"Hm..." Argo looked thoughtfully at the remorseful blue human, then turned to the human's mate. "And you will vouch for him, then?"

"Of course," Meredith replied, rubbing Jaming's shoulder before looking over at Argo. "He's told me everything already, so none of this is a surprise. And he's told me some other things as well. The truth is, Gaspard, another one of Griffon's men, came to him when he was in a particularly low place and told him that if he joined them, people wouldn't look down on him anymore, and his inventions would lead him to greatness. By the time he realized he had made a mistake, it was too late to turn back. He felt that he had no choice."

Argo mulled this over for a bit, and as he did so, he watched Jaming for signs of deception. Jaming had every opportunity to refuse to explain himself, and to go right back out that door. Instead, he had confessed without trying to make himself look good. Argo wanted to continue to be angry at him, but as he tried to imagine what it was like to live with such terrible guilt, compassion began to take the place of anger. "I can't speak for Lin, of course. And nothing in this world can bring Crest back to us. Not even holding a grudge against you. You have my forgiveness."

Whatever Jaming was expecting Argo to say, it wasn't that! He looked up at the owl for the first time since he had begun to speak, and when he found his voice again he his monocle back on. "Thank you..."

"Now," Argo shifted a bit on his perch, "why _are_ you here?"

"Ahem...well, we have a friend who needs some help. She, um...she came to me, and I don't know what to do. You see, she used to be a painting. Magic was used to bring her to life, and now she wants to return to the canvas. I know how that sounds..." Jaming actually blushed; the story _was_ pretty far-fetched!

"Hoo! Like the ones that artist who lives here paints? What was his name? Parn, wasn't it?"

Meredith sat up a little straighter in her surprise. "You mean, you know him?"

"Certainly! He's painted some beautiful pieces. That still life on the wall is one of his," Argo nodded to a rather nondescript portrait of a ceramic bowl filled with apples. "He's been boasting that he plans to bring one of his creations to life, if he could just get it right. The villagers think he's rather eccentric."

"What?" Jaming looked from the painting back to Argo. "You mean he's going to do it _again?_ Doesn't he realize what he's doing?"

Argo turned sharply back to Jaming and flared his wings. "What do you mean _'again'?_ You mean this young woman you speak of is one of his?"

Both of them bristled a little at Argo's choice of words, and Meredith said rather coldly, "Julia belongs to herself. It's not _her _fault Parn decided to play God."

"Please, don't take offense," Argo implored, "I meant to ask if she was from one of the portraits he's done."

"Oh," Meredith rubbed the back of her neck. "Yes, she is."

"The trouble is," Jaming continued, "the gold paint that was used to bring her out of the painting is...Well, it's unusual. I can't make heads or tails of it, and I don't even know if it's _possible _to return her to the painting. Also, there are the moral implications to contend with..."

"Moral?" Argo blinked. "How so?"

"Well, Julia claims that there is another world on her side of the canvas, but I don't know if I believe it. If there isn't, then I don't know if I _should_ carry out her wishes." He scratched his cheek. "I simply don't have the answers. And I thought...Well, the plan was, _I_ would find out where Crest's apprentice could be found. Having done that, I would tell Meredith, and _she_ would go and ask about the paint. Then we would leave, and Lin would be none the wiser. She...she was never supposed to actually s_ee_ me. That was all an accident."

Meredith chimed in, "I don't think Parn meant any _harm,_ but he's caused Julia a great deal of it. To be honest, for selfish reasons, I half hope it can't be done. She's a good friend of mine."

"I don't know her nearly as well as Meredith does, but I made a promise. I know it's a long shot, because Lin is still quite young, but we thought she might know something, or have a book referring to the paint, or..._anything,_ really."

"Quite an elaborate deception you had planned," Argo remarked, looking rather sleepy now that noon was approaching. "Though I can certainly see now why it was necessary. My, my, what a pickle. Hoo!"

Jaming nodded. "Indeed, it is."


	36. Chapter 36: Insight, Pt1

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note:__ This next bit might be a little confusing. Lin gets to be a fly on the wall, so to speak, but she can't interact directly with the things she sees and hears. Much of this will be in italics to signal when this is taking place._

"Chapter 36: Insight, Pt1"

Even though the Lighthouse was the place where Master Crest had met his death, Lin still had a sense of peace and tranquility when she studied there. Sad things had happened there, and yet it was not a place of sadness. The light of the Moon Crystal shone as brightly and as constantly as ever, and somehow Lin always felt close to Master Crest when she read by its light. Sometimes she spoke to him as if he were sitting beside her, and although she received no reply, she felt that he could hear her.

Today, though, she could not focus on her studies. She sat cross-legged on the stone floor, resting her forehead in her hands as she tried to force her mind to remain on the pages before her. She simply could not get the memory of last night out of her head! Why had that murderer _saved_ her, and what was he doing in Balance Valley?

"I'll bet _you_ would be able to figure it out...wouldn't you, Master?" she whispered, looking up at the Moon Crystal as if he resided in its depths. "He would have let me fall, unless he _wanted _something from me. Maybe he's waiting until I can actually _use_ the Crystal. Maybe he wants to get me on _their_ side. But if that's not what it is...I know you would probably tell me to forgive him now. But how can I forgive a man I detest?"

Lin did not expect an answer. She never expected one when she talked to him, though she had no doubt that his spirit could hear her. So, it was a great surprise to her when the Moon Crystal's light began to pulse and an audible hum reached her ears. It almost reminded her of the hum of electricity, but there was no smell of ozone. She got quickly to her feet, and as she gaped up at the Crystal, she began to see something forming at the center.

"Master?"

But no, it wasn't Crest. The image of a small boy, no older than five, began to take shape before her eyes. She felt as if she was being pulled into the Crystal, and, curious, she did not try to fight it. A casual observer would simply see her standing underneath the Moon Crystal in some sort of trance, and the Crystal would not have appeared any different to them either. This message, from the Moon Crystal itself, was for Lin alone.

* * *

><p><em>The little boy had blue spiky hair, though not as long as the hair his adult counterpart possessed, and not quite as wild. His skin was an odd shade indeed. It was blue. His baby teeth were unremarkable, surprisingly, though they did stick out a bit. He was actually able to properly close his mouth as a child! <em>

_Lin stared down at the figure, unable to believe that he was ever so small and harmless-looking. He sat on a low sofa, idly kicking his legs as he waited for his mother to walk him to his first day of school._

_ "Mother, why do I have to go?" _

_ A woman, still rather young-looking but clearly middle-aged, handed him a brown paper bag with the name 'Jaming' written on the side of it. Lin wondered if he was a late in life baby, then wondered why she was wondering._

_ "You have to go to school so that you can learn about things," Jaming's mother took his hand, and he reluctantly slid off the couch. "We talked about this last night, remember?"_

_ "Can't I just learn at home, though?" he asked, bringing up the hand that held his lunch and wiping his nose with a forefinger. "I don't want to go. They'll all treat me different."_

_ Jaming's mother stopped walking, and looked sadly down at her son before getting on one knee to look him in the eye. "Jaming...you're a good boy. You're a _very _good boy. And some people aren't very nice. But there are many nice people, too. You just have to look for them. But you can't find them if you stay home all the time, can you?"_

_ "But I don't _want_ to find them!" He was beginning to tear up, clearly frightened about his first day of school. "I want to go home!"_

_ Lin hardened her heart, and resolved to feel no pity. He might have been innocent as a child, but he certainly wasn't anymore!_

_ Jaming's mother put her arms around him, and whispered in his ear, "Sometimes we have to do things that we don't want to do. It'll be okay, I promise."_

_ Little Jaming shook his head vigorously, gearing up for a tantrum. "No, no, no!"_

_ "Father works there, remember? He teaches some of the older students, but remember he promised to check on you at lunchtime? You won't be alone. One of us will always be there." She wiped his cheeks as he began to grow calmer, and forced a smile. "Okay?"_

_ "Okay. But I still don't like it!"_

_ There was a flurry of movement, and Lin realized that they had just jumped through time. Jaming and his mother were still walking to school, though, so it was more of a hop than a jump._

_ "Mother, I just thought of somethin'!" His little face lit up._

_ "What?"_

_ "What if the school isn't there when we get there? Do I still have to go?"_

_ Jaming's mother covered her mouth to hide a smile. "No such luck, Jaming. It'll be there."_

_ "Aww, that stinks..."_

_ Lin shook her head as the scene changed once more. Jaming was sitting in the back of his classroom, looking very sullen and cross. As she watched, one of the other students took advantage of the teacher's turned back and lobbed a crayon at his head._

_ "Hey! Poop-head!" Jaming scowled at the other boy.  
><em>

_ The teacher turned and frowned at the direction the shout had come from. "Who said that?"_

_ Jaming's nine classmates turned and pointed at him, and he was told to go stand in the corner. "But he threw a crayon at me!"_

_ "I did not!" The other boy protested, "I don't want his cooties on my crayons!"_

_ The teacher pointed at the other boy. "And you go stand in the other corner. No one in this class has 'cooties', and we don't throw things."_

_ This was ordinary child behavior, as far as Lin could tell. She was about to question the importance of this when the scenery changed again, and she saw Jaming sitting by himself during recess. Seemingly out of nowhere, a rock sailed through the air and bounced off the back of his head. Lin whipped around to see who had thrown it, and it turned out that the culprit was the boy who had thrown the crayon before. She looked back at Jaming, and saw that he had begun to cry. And she gasped when she saw blood seeping between his blue fingers as he held his head._

_ "Ha ha! Cry-baby!" The boy threw another rock, which Jaming successfully dodged. Then he got the surprise of his life when Jaming, still bleeding and sniffling, let out a bellow of rage and hurt before charging him and tackling him to the ground._

_ The teacher, who had her hands full with the other eight students, finally noticed what was going on and hurried over to break it up. It was unfortunate that all she saw was Jaming knocking down his classmate and hitting him as much as he could before he was pulled off._

_ That wasn't fair! He was just minding his own business, and this other kid had decided to stir the pot! Lin caught herself thinking that, and frowned. "It's not going to work. I can't forgive him."_

* * *

><p><em> Lin found herself standing before an irate middle-aged man, and for a moment she thought his anger was directed at her. Then, realizing that he couldn't see, hear, or touch her, she relaxed. He was pacing agitatedly in his study, and he actually walked <em>through_ her once, but she quickly moved off so that this wouldn't happen again. Too weird!_

_ As she took in his features, she thought that he seemed familiar, and when the phone rang and he answered it, she realized who this was. The voice sounded very similar to Jaming's adult voice, but it was rougher somehow. _

_ "Hello? Yes, I've been expecting your call, and...what? Wait, you want me to what? Apologize!" He blustered, his cheeks darkening with fury. "I will do no such thing! Jaming has already been expelled; what more do you want? I tell you, that other boy threw a rock at my son, and-no! No, he wasn't lying. That wound needed stitching, and he's been in bed with a headache all afternoon!"_

_ Lin grew pale as she witnessed the man's anger, and though she could understand it, it frightened her a little. She could hear the voice on the other line, but since the other person wasn't yelling, she couldn't make out what was said._

_ "Yes, I have the medical report to prove that my son was injured. Yes...yes, I'm aware that he gave the other boy a bloody nose, but this was in response to...No! No, I'm not saying that hitting is _right_, but my son has the right to defend himself. Well, I don't care what school policy says! If my son had thrown the rock, and the other boy had knocked him down for it, it would _still_ be my son taking all the blame for it, only in that case it would be justified, and-I'm not finished! Do you think I haven't heard the rumors? Do you honestly think that this is the first time _my son_ has been the scapegoat?"_

_ Lin made out the words 'thin ice' from the other end of the line, and she gulped._

_ "I'm on thin ice, am I?" Jaming's father said with an almost eerie sort of calm. "Unless I apologize? Well...if it's a choice between my job or my son...I say that you, the school board, and the 'angry parents' can all go fuck yourselves. Good day, sir."_

_ The phone slammed into its cradle so hard that it made the ringing mechanism give a short, angry 'ding', and Lin let out the breath she had been holding. She watched as Jaming's father ran both hands through his graying hair, and she heard him let out a similar breath before he turned on his heel and punched the wall._

_ This was a mistake. "Ngh! Ow...son of a...ahhh..." Jaming's father kissed his knuckles, shook his hand, flexed it, then leaned against his desk. "What a jackass."_

_ Lin wasn't sure if he was talking about himself, or about the person he had just hung up on._


	37. Chapter 37: Insight, Pt2

"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 37: Insight, Pt2"

_Lin had no choice but to watch the next twelve years of Jaming's life play out in snippets, and in spite of the determination she had to hold on to her hatred for the man this boy would become, she was finding it difficult to do so. _

_ Even though Jaming was homeschooled from about the age of seven on, he frequently came home from outings with torn clothing. One of those times he had a bloody nose, which he concealed from his mother, and the start of a black eye, which could not be so easily hidden. It was only when Lin saw the injuries that she realized why his clothes had been torn on those other occasions. _

_ As Lin watched, Jaming eventually confessed that some of the neighborhood children had done it, but he was too afraid of retaliation to call any of them by name._

_ Jaming was often seen tinkering with machinery, taking apart his toys, and later the house appliances, and putting them back together again. Occasionally he got into a bit of trouble for this, but it could not be denied that he had an affinity for figuring out how things worked, and he was almost always able to perfectly reassemble things. _

_ More than once, the objects functioned better than they had before, and his mother took him under her wing and let him help her out in her garage. Lin thought that this was an odd sort of role reversal, the wife being involved with technology and the husband working as a teacher, but it was a formula that worked for them._

_ After receiving an acoustic guitar on his twelfth birthday, Jaming got heavily into music. When he wasn't building something he was teaching himself how to play music, and he picked it up more quickly than most. _

_ At the age of fifteen, Jaming encountered a young girl his own age at the market when his mother had sent him out to buy a chicken for their supper. He had clearly _noticed_ the girl, but he was too shy to speak to her. He began to find excuses to go to the store, and every time he saw her he tried to get up the nerve to say something. Then, one day, the girl caught him looking at her and said 'hello' to him before moving off._

_ Lin frowned as he went home with a big smile on his face. He must have missed something in the girl's expression, because Lin thought that she looked uncomfortable rather than pleased to find him staring at her.  
><em>

_ The next time Jaming saw the girl, Lin saw with a certain degree of dismay that she was right. Jaming saw the girl with a group of her friends on one of his trips to the market, and he approached them with a little more confidence than he had shown before. The girls immediately stopped chatting amongst themselves when they saw him, and several of them looked disgusted._

_ Jaming ignored all but the one who had (in his mind) greeted him before, and he cleared his throat as he stood with his hands in his pockets. "Ummm...hi."_

_ A couple of the girls giggled, but the girl he had spoken to looked like she wanted to sink into the ground. "Hi?" It sounded more like a question than a statement._

_ "I, uh...I was wondering...maybe...if you..." Jaming mumbled, wondering why he found it so difficult to string the words together in a cohesive sentence._

_ "What?" the girl asked when he trailed off and stood opening and closing his mouth like a guppy as he tried to finish what he was saying._

_ "Would you...I don't know...want to get lunch sometime?" His blue cheeks darkened to an odd purple shade._

_ This was clearly too much for the girl, who was mortified that her friends had been there to see this, otherwise she might have been much kinder. She scrunched up her face as if he had held something smelly under her nose. "Ugh...dream _on,_ Blueberry. And get your teeth fixed!"_

_ Another girl jeered, "Creepo, get away!"_

_ Lin's jaw dropped at the shocking cruelty she had just witnessed, and as he retreated in humiliation the girls whispered together before exclaiming in disgust and laughing like a flock of harpies. She watched as Jaming, unable to hold it in anymore, ducked into an alley and sat on an old crate with his face in his hands. It had taken a lot for him to gather the courage to talk to a girl, and she had shot him right down._

_ He went home empty-handed, having forgotten all about buying some fish for dinner. His mother took one look at his face and told him that she thought she would just make spaghetti that night, and when she asked him how that sounded he merely shrugged and went to his room. He refused his dinner, and his guitar was heard playing for the rest of the evening._

_ "These are things that many of us go through, though..." Lin said to herself._

_ Then, when Jaming was almost ready to turn seventeen, something terrible happened. His house caught fire in the middle of the night, and Lin heard him coughing and hacking as his father half-dragged, half-led him to the relative safety of his front yard._

_ Jaming, coughing hard and barely conscious, looked up at his father as he lay in the grass. "F-Father...what...how..."_

_ "Stay there! Your mother's still inside!"_

_ Jaming's father ran back through the front door, and his son got unsteadily to his feet and tried to follow him. Before he could reach the door, however, the roof caved in. Lin's cry joined Jaming's as he was forced back by the blast of heat._

_ "Father! Father! _Mother!_ Somebody _help _me!" he screamed.  
><em>

_ Lin watched as he tried in vain to find a way in, and time skipped ahead to show her what had happened when the neighbors came out to investigate. From what had gone before, Lin knew that Jaming's family was not well-liked. His father was brusque and defensive from years of fending off his son's tormentors, and his mother did not socialize much at all. _

_ Worse still was the fact that Jaming's physical appearance had a way of inspiring fear and distrust, and when they saw that he was the sole survivor and that he was largely unharmed and completely expressionless due to shock, the conclusion they jumped to was that _he_ must have set the fire on purpose. Less than an hour after losing the only two people who he cared for and who cared for him, Jaming was forced to flee for his life. _

_ He hid in the town junkyard, where he spent the rest of the night loudly grieving the loss of his parents, and for the next several days he hardly did anything at all. It was later found out that the fire had originated in his next-door neighbor's house, and that it had been due to faulty wiring in the walls, but even though his neighbors had reached out and tried to apologize to him, he refused to acknowledge them at all. He was done.  
><em>

_ Lin was in tears by the end of it, and as the next several years flashed quickly before her eyes, she saw how holding on to hatred could transform a person for the worse._

_ There was a montage of Jaming at his drawing board, clearly in his early twenties. By then, Griffon's forces had well begun destroying towns. The blue-skinned inventor, who had put himself through college and graduated early, had lost what innocence he had possessed and hardly ever smiled._

_ Lin saw that he had also begun to nurse a huge grudge against the world, and that he longed to show 'them' how wrong they were to treat him like a sideshow freak. Like he was _nothing._ Aeroharmonics was in its infancy at this stage, but not for long. _

_ There were several failures. The first few didn't bother Jaming all that much, but as time passed he grew increasingly desperate. Finally, when he was about twenty-nine, he got a third platform off the ground before it went on a rampage and destroyed his workshop. Just like the others. _

_ It was then that a silver-haired man with pointed ears approached him, and Lin recognized him as being the other man on the ship. He wore a large, strangely-colored sword at his hip, and he walked with the deadly grace of a jungle cat._

_ "Well, well, well..." Silver-Hair took in the swath of destruction wrought by the platform. "This is quite a mess."_

_ Jaming turned and cocked his arm back, ready to throw his wrench at the one who dared to infringe upon his misery. Something stopped him, though, probably some sort of instinct that told him it would be a very bad idea. "Who are you, and what do you want?"_

_ "My name is Gaspard. And _you_ are Dr. Jaming. Am I correct?"_

_ Jaming's monocle whirred softly as he stared at the intruder. "Yes. And I'm not in the mood to entertain company today. Or any other day, for that matter. Leave my workshop at once."_

_ Gaspard narrowed his eyes. Mindful of his task, he kept his temper in check. "Now, that's no way to treat someone who's come to make you a generous offer."_

_ "Whatever it is, I'm not interested," Jaming growled as he tossed his wrench uncaringly into a corner and surveyed the mess that would no doubt take him days to clean._

_ "Not even if it would help you achieve your dream? Aeroharmonics..." Gaspard meaningfully enunciated the word as he approached Jaming. "An idea that is very close to becoming a reality. You crave _respect._ You want people to look at you and say, 'Now, _there_ goes a man of intelligence'. Isn't that right?"_

_ Jaming suspiciously gave Gaspard the side-eye. It was an attractive thought, but he didn't trust this stranger. "What do _you_ know about what I want? And how did you learn about my Aeroharmonics theory? I haven't discussed it with anyone!"_

_ "My master has taken an interest in your abilities. He can make your dream a reality."_

_ "Your 'master'?" Jaming scowled. "Listen, I don't have time for this. I will tell you one more time to get out."_

_ Gaspard stared calmly at Jaming before turning to the platform, drawing his sword, and slicing down at the floor with the wickedly-curved blade. It was then that Jaming (and Lin) realized that it was no ordinary sword; a strange beam of energy traveled along the floor, and when it made contact with the platform it sent the craft flipping through the air like a pancake._

_ "What...what have you done?" Jaming grew pale as he backed away from Gaspard. "_How?_"  
><em>

_ "Don't be afraid," Gaspard said in a mock-soothing tone. "That was but a demonstration of the power Emperor Griffon can grant to those of us who swear fealty to him."_

_ "Emperor...Griffon!" Jaming's visible eye grew wide. "The one who is turning our world into a wasteland with every passing year? _That's_ who you work for?"_

_ "As regrettable as that is," Gaspard said in a tone that demonstrated how little he truly cared about that, "it is a means to an end. This world is a cesspool of greed and violence. Emperor Griffon intends to purify it. You work to better yourself. He sees that. He can give you access to better materials. You will have only to name the things you need, and you shall _have_ them. Aeroharmonics will no longer be a gleam in your eye, but something the world can see and touch. No one will _ever _look down on you again. _You_ will be the one looking down on _them. _Literally."_

_ Jaming looked away from Gaspard, and as Lin watched he walked slowly over to his platform, stroking its scorched side with his fingertips. It was almost as if he was saying goodbye to an old friend. In that moment, Lin realized that he really _was_ saying goodbye to something. He was putting his misgivings into a box and shoving it deep into the back of his mind._

_ "All right..." Jaming looked at the soot on his fingers before turning to Gaspard. "I'll do it."_


	38. Chapter 38: Insight, Final

"Inventing the Future"

_Author's Note: Strap yourselves in and make some popcorn; I think this is the longest chapter yet!_

"Chapter 38: Insight, Final"

_Jaming's time in the service of Emperor Griffon wasn't quite what Lin had expected it to be. In the beginning, other than building or designing weapons and miscellaneous machines, he didn't actually _do_ much. However, he did hear about what his creations were being used for, and his occasional uneasy frowns hinted at a growing sense of disquiet._

_ Most notably, Flotsam, a creepy circus clown who had joined Griffon's forces sometime before Jaming had, dropped by Jaming's workshop to gloat about the success he'd had with something he called 'Halloween'._

_ "Ho ho ho! My boy, you've got quite an eye for detail, I must say! That new machine of yours is _fantastic!_" cackled Flotsam, puffing away on a smelly cigar._

_ Jaming bowed wordlessly, accepting the praise, but looking very subdued._

_ "It was an absolute slaughter! Grown men screaming like little girls, women scattering like rabbits. And as for their little snot-nosed brats? Why, they never stood a chance!" Flotsam shrewdly narrowed his eyes when Jaming turned away from him. The inventor resumed his tinkering with what seemed to be another, flashier platform, and Flotsam sneered in disgust. "Oh, come on! Don't be such a lemon-sucking sourpuss! I thought you'd be more pleased than _that!_ Have a cigar. _Celebrate_ a little!"_

_ The inventor replied coldly, "I don't smoke. Now, if you don't mind, I have a lot of work to do."_

_ "Well, if you're going to cop _that_ sort of downer attitude, you're not worth my tobacco." Flotsam snorted, calling over his shoulder as he left the workshop. "It's off to Palm Brinks next. We'll find that stone yet!"_

_ Lin saw Jaming's lip curl, but he made no retort. He stared off into space for a while, and Lin thought she could see the beginnings of regret, but she couldn't be sure until she heard him mutter, "What am I doing?"_

_ Griffon, wearing his cowl so that his eyes looked like two red points of light, was listening at the door. "You are fulfilling your obligation to me. Or did you wish to resign?" _

_ The small robed person raised his hand in Jaming's direction as the inventor jumped guiltily, and the next thing Lin knew, Jaming rose off the workshop floor and sailed back into a wall. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs and left him rubbing his head, but it didn't seem to cause any lasting harm._

_ Jaming caught his breath, clearly frightened, but keeping his composure for the most part. This was his first meeting with 'the boss', and even though he dwarfed the robed figure, the power in that small package was unmistakable. "N-no, my lord."_

_ "So..._you_ are the inventor who has made my latest conquest possible. It would be a shame to see such talent go to waste. Wouldn't you agree, Dr. Jaming?" Griffon drawled as he casually strolled through the workshop, inspecting his servant's work._

_ "I...I would not want that, sir," Jaming mumbled, getting slowly to his feet._

_ "Good. Then we understand each other."_

_ "Yes, sir." Jaming nodded._

_ "This platform is a curious little device, but I'm more interested in knowing the progress you've made on the Death Ark. I hope you haven't shirked your duties to tinker with_ this_ little toy."_

_ Jaming shook his head, a bead of clear sweat trickling down his temple. "No, the Death Ark is ready to go, sir. It did well during testing, but it has yet to be proven out on the field. It is in dry dock until Gaspard is ready for it."_

_ "Hm..." Griffon folded his arms in his sleeves, his red eyes narrowing beneath his hood. "I don't believe that your heart is truly in this endeavor. You humans will lie to save your own skins, and then turn around and do the opposite of what you say. Isn't that right?"_

_ Jaming's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. This was truly a no-win situation. No matter what he said, he knew that it was liable to displease Griffon. "Self-preservation is only natural."_

_ Griffon actually laughed at that. "It is. And so is skepticism when it comes to dealing with your kind. I will need more than your word alone as proof of your loyalty. You will go with Gaspard when he uses the ship."_

_ "M-me, sir?" Jaming's voice gave an almost adolescent-sounding squeak as it broke._

_ "You will pilot the ship, and you will obey Gaspard. His orders come directly from me. If I detect any sign of disobedience on your part..." Griffon's eyes narrowed once more. "you shall be punished. _Severely._ Is that clear?"_

_ Jaming clasped his hands behind his back, and Lin could see that they had begun to shake. Clearly, he was hiding his hands for that very reason. "Crystal clear, sir."_

_ "Good."_

_ Griffon left, and Jaming slowly sagged against the wall and slid down into a sitting position. _

_ Lin frowned thoughtfully. She had thought that Jaming had _enjoyed_ serving the side of evil. It had never occurred to her that he chose to do it to avoid coming to harm himself. She felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach as it occurred to her that they must be getting very close to the attack on the Lighthouse. Sure enough, after the colors of the scene blurred and shifted, they reformed into a location that she knew all too well. "No...don't make me see this again..."_

_ She found herself on the Death Ark, standing with Dr. Jaming and Gaspard. She slowly backed away. As she watched, though, she thought that Jaming sounded hesitant and uncertain. _

_ "What shall I do?"_

_ Lin blinked as the scene shifted. Jaming materialized beside Gaspard, no doubt using an invention of his to teleport there, possibly one that was built into the ship itself. _

_ "We're under attack from the Moon Crystal." Jaming sounded flustered, as if he had not expected this development. In all fairness, he had no way of knowing that the Crystal could be used in such a manner. "Wh, what should I do?"_

_ Another shift, and Jaming looked rather panicked. "The ship is going down!"_

_ Lin was growing dizzy from all these scene shifts, and she closed her eyes for a moment to shut out the visuals. She had seen almost nothing pertaining to the Lighthouse. Everything she had just witnessed seemed to highlight how ill-suited Jaming really was for combat. He was tall, but he wasn't particularly muscular. It wasn't blatantly obvious, but she could tell that he was a reluctant servant at this point. He seemed to be, in a word, stuck._

_ The sound of voices brought Lin back to what was happening, and she opened her eyes. They were in a location she didn't recognize, and Jaming was busily surveying the damage done to the ship._

_ "Hey, Jaming," Gaspard called grimly, "stop that for a minute and come here."_

_ Jaming flinched, then scrambled down from the hulking craft and approached Gaspard. "Yes?"_

_ Gaspard suddenly seized him by the front of his coat and nearly yanked him off his feet as he leaned in to whisper. "Tell me...Do you have a death wish?"_

_ "N-no..." Jaming scowled at Gaspard and freed himself easily, but it was obvious that this was only because Gaspard had let him. "The ship is fixable. I don't know what you-"_

_ "Be quiet," Gaspard folded his arms and shut his eyes for a moment. Jaming obediently shut up. Gaspard then drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes once more. "Your attitude is a poison. It's obvious even to the lowest level soldier that you're having second thoughts."_

_ "I'm not-" Jaming began, but Gaspard talked over him._

_ "You _are_. And they will get you killed. I am telling you this because your creations are needed. But there comes a point where your detriments begin to outweigh your assets. If you're as smart as you claim to be, then stop sulking and show some _enthusiasm. _Fake it if you have to, because if Griffon sees you wavering again, your life is forfeit. I know he already warned you once. Most don't even get _that_. Consider yourself lucky. Now...we might not have managed to destroy the Lighthouse, but as it happens, the mission was not a total failure. The Great Sage, Crest, is no more. You are fortunate indeed that Emperor Griffon is content with that." Gaspard then turned and strode away, leaving Jaming alone with his ship and his thoughts._

_ Lin thought about how she'd fare under so much stress and pressure, and the thought made her wince. When was this going to be over? Would she be stuck in this vision for much longer?_

_ The next several scenes went by in a flash. There were brief snippets (only flashes, really) showing a dramatic change in Jaming's demeanor as he seemed to embrace the role of 'mad scientist'. His true self was being buried day by day, and the facade was becoming stronger and stronger._

_ Max and Monica encountered Dr. Jaming and his floating platform on a beach in Veniccio, and the transformation was startling. Forget about enthusiasm; his mannerisms now looked almost insane! Whether he was acting to save his behind, or whether he had actually begun to lose it, Lin simply could not tell. Either way, he moved and spoke with an almost manic sort of energy.  
><em>

_ Strange sea creatures, which he referred to as 'Shigura', were wearing odd devices on their heads. It became apparent that they no longer had any control over their own actions, and that he was using a modified electric guitar to control them remotely and make them attack while he himself stayed out of reach._

_ As Lin watched, Max and Monica soon discovered the way to take him out. They attacked a Shigura when Jaming's platform was above one of them, more to make it react than to do any actual harm, and the Shigura would jerk its head up and into the platform. After a certain number of blows it actually began to short out. Finally, he was dumped unceremoniously into the sand._

_ It was only then that things actually began to look up for Jaming. The Shigura, now free to do as they wished, could have easily taken their revenge on him. Instead, a few of them stayed with him and tried to revive him! Gaspard, disgusted at Jaming's failure, left him where he was. _

_ Lin witnessed his transformation, which had only truly begun with the loss of his battle with Max and Monica. She witnessed his remorse, and saw his resolve to do better. She witnessed his first meeting with Meredith, and she actually had to smile at how quickly they went from being mere acquaintances to becoming friends. _

_ Finally, when Lin watched Jaming tearfully come clean to Meredith about his past, she had to believe him when he said that he was sorry. And, as the scene shifted again, she saw his anguish at finding Meredith half-dead in a sea cave, and later on she saw the two of them confess their love for each other. She no longer needed convincing. Jaming _had_ changed._

_ And, strangest of all, a faint image seemed to be superimposed in the background. As Lin focused on that instead of on Jaming's past, she could see it more clearly. It was Veniccio, but it was much different than the one she had seen earlier in the vision. Garish neon lights gave the nighttime shore an almost carnival-like atmosphere. Four metal structures, one red, one purple, one blue, and one green, were connected to a much larger central building. A faint voice, one that seemed to belong to an adolescent boy, was heard as if over a radio with a poor signal. _

_ "Now, hold on a minute. This is not the same Jaming that attacked you back in the past, okay? Well, not exactly the same, anyway...He happens to be his grandson."_

_ Lin tried to hear more, but she felt a sensation of being pulled. "Oh! But...not yet! I want to know!"_

* * *

><p>Lin came out of her trance and continued to stare up at the Moon Crystal for a moment or two. Then, when the vision did not return, she sighed and looked at where the sun was in the sky. "What? But that's impossible...I've been in there for hours!"<p>

The sun had moved, but not very much. She couldn't have been in her trance for more than thirty minutes, but she felt like she had just lived a lifetime. And, in a very real way, she had.

What had been the Moon Crystal's reason for showing her that last odd glimpse of the future at the end of it?

_'He happens to be his grandson.'_

That odd conglomeration of buildings. Whatever it was, it must have been (or might someday be) important, otherwise why would she see it?

"What did that place have to do with _him?_" Lin murmured as she picked up her book and closed it. That unknown voice had been addressing someone, and Lin thought that it must be Max and Monica. They were the ones who could travel through time, so that place _must_ exist in the future.

If Jaming had anything to do with the construction of that place, and if Max and Monica had gone there, then Lin could only come to one conclusion. The future _needed_ Dr. Jaming. Even if Lin never forgave him, and she was actually beginning to, that much was clear.

Seeing what the future might hold, and seeing how holding on to hatred could transform a person had opened her eyes. Was that the lesson that the Moon Crystal had tried to teach her?

Saving people just by being there. That was the kind of Sage that Master Crest had wanted to be. Nowhere in this pronouncement did it say anything about nursing a grudge. What kind of Sage could she hope to be if she let this darkness consume her? Would she ever become a Sage at all?

Lin went to the center of the Lighthouse and took the lift down. She needed to find Jaming and talk to him while she still felt brave enough to do it.

* * *

><p>Jaming and Meredith exited Lin and Argo's house only to come face-to-face with Lin herself. All three of them froze.<p>

"Hoo!" Argo flapped his wings, but did not fly from his perch. "Lin...I can explain everything."

Snapping out of it, Lin shook her head and murmured, "It's okay, Argo. I was actually getting ready to look for him. Hello."

This last was directed at Meredith, who smiled a tad nervously and slipped her dry hand into Jaming's sweaty one. She could feel him shaking, and she knew that however this went it would be difficult for him. And, no doubt, for Lin as well.

Jaming squeezed Meredith's hand before letting go of it. Without a word, he brushed past Lin and moved off to gather his wits. He wasn't intentionally being rude, but he hadn't expected to encounter her so soon. He didn't go far, however, and he turned back to find both females watching him.

Meredith cleared her throat and spoke up. "I think I'll go for a walk. I get the feeling you two have a lot to talk about."

Jaming's eyes widened, but he didn't argue. He didn't want to face this without her, but he also didn't want her to witness his shame. When Lin nodded, he knew that the decision had been made. Meredith went over to him and gave him a hug, whispering that she wouldn't go far, and for that he was grateful.

Lin drew near, a ghost of her previous feelings for him still on her face. "So..."

Jaming looked down at this girl; half his age, and yet he felt like little more than a scolded child. "You have something to say to me. Go ahead and say it." It came out harsher than he meant it to, and he lowered his eyes as if to apologize for his tone.

"It's not easy for me...I hardly know where to begin." Lin frowned and folded her arms.

Jaming knew exactly what she meant! "Me neither."

"I wanted to thank you. For saving me last night." She saw him flinch, and she actually gained courage from it. "And I'm sorry I hit you."

Jaming tried to speak, then cleared his throat and tried again. "Don't apologize. Not to me. You were justified."

"Maybe..." Lin looked out over the plateaus, spotting Meredith on one of them. She was chatting with Ferdinand, and she kept glancing in their direction. "But everyone has a story that no one else knows about."

"What do you mean?"

"When I was at the Lighthouse today, the Moon Crystal showed me a vision," Lin replied, seeing no point in sugarcoating the truth. "It's never happened to me before. I don't know how it happened _now._"

Jaming paled. As an introvert, he was very territorial about his privacy, but if the Crystal showed it to her and gave her no choice in the matter, he couldn't really say much! "How...how much did you see?"

Lin was silent for a long time, and Jaming began to squirm a bit.

"How much did you see?"

Finally, she answered him. "Enough to see that you aren't exactly what I thought you were. Enough to see that the future needs you."

Ahhh, so there it was. He had some part to play in the future, otherwise she would have continued to be hostile to him. Well, wasn't that her right? He had _wronged _her! "We're in the here and now. You have every right to hate me after what I did."

"I _did _hate you," Lin raised her eyes to meet his, and some of the hardness was back in her gaze. "And it will be a _long_ time before I can let go of everything that's happened...if I ever _can._ But I don't think I can hate you anymore."

He actually cringed away from her then, reminding her of how he twisted to avoid the knee she had aimed at his crotch the night before. She didn't even remember doing that until right then, and she bit her lip in embarrassment. When he spoke, his voice was tight with restrained emotion. "There are times when I hate _myself _for the things I've done. I haven't apologized to you yet. Not because I'm not sorry, but because no apology can ever be enough. I...I'm sorry."

Lin nodded slowly, the steeliness leaving her eyes when she saw that he truly meant it. "I believe you. Now...I'm still not sure why you came here. Unless that was it."

"No...You were never supposed to see me," Jaming mumbled, looking over at where Meredith was trying not to look like she was watching them. "I knew that would upset you, and...I was reluctant to face you. I had a question for you, but Meredith was going to be the one to ask it."

"Well, I guess we're over the big hurdle, then. She can come back over, if she wants to."


End file.
